


The Frederick Collective

by nightlyvalor



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Angst, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Short Stories, for the angst and fluff, lolol, so just stay tuned, there will be a lot of both
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:33:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 53
Words: 85,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9284756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlyvalor/pseuds/nightlyvalor
Summary: A collection of stories from my Tumblr blog- living a day to day angst-filled life with the one and only Freddybear; aka, the true husband. <3





	1. Attentive

**Author's Note:**

> The first Frederick story I ever wrote, figured it was high time I popped this mess over here ;D

Four months and an aversion to bear meat.

That was all it took for Frederick to propose to you. Not that you were complaining, of course. To be honest you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

The strong and serious knight was the perfect man in every way to you, save for his constant over-worrying and his rather strange desire to serve every beck and call of Prince Chrom and Princess Lissa.

It wouldn’t be that big a deal, considering he was the head knight and it was his duty to serve and protect the royal family with his life, but the issue arose when he literally did everything for them. 

And to be completely honest, it was getting on your nerves.

The man hardly had any time for you, and it was getting to be a major issue. If he wasn’t doing work with the camp, he was doing chores for Chrom and Lissa. Mending their clothes, preparing their food, making sure their tents were in proper order and they had all the supplies they needed.

It was like he was a butler, parent, and soldier all rolled up into one for them.  
But for you? 

It was turning into one huge nuisance. And that was mainly because the only time you had together was when he came to turn in for the night, and even then he would fall asleep facing away from you and by the time he showed up, you were already asleep. 

It didn’t help that he woke up at ungodly hours to get the camp ready for the day and check the roads to make sure there wouldn’t be any pebbles or twigs that his lord and lady might trip on (heaven forbid).

As of now, the Shepherds were currently traveling, making their way towards the Northroad, where they’d received word of more Risen attacking the area and were making their way towards villages outside of Ylisstol. It was only natural that the Shepherds be the ones to stop them, especially seeing as they needed to head towards the castle to speak with Emmeryn, anyways.

You were towards the front of the group, walking with Chrom, Sumia, Lissa, Maribelle and Sully, who’d taken to the front of the group as they approached the destination. Frederick had already gone farther ahead to make sure that the ground was safe for the royalty to pass through. 

“You know, Robin, it comes to my attention that you hardly spend much time with your husband nowadays. Any particular reason that is?” Maribelle asked conversationally, but you could hear the gossipy tone in her voice.

“Oh, no reason. He’s simply a busy man, with a lot to do. We don’t see each other often, but I don’t mind it.” 

‘Too much.’ You thought to herself, though in reality it had really begun to eat away at you. 

“Really, now? Why don’t you try to spend more time with him yourself, hmm?” She pointed out.

“Unfortunately, he doesn’t want me to help him. He’s deemed his work far too tiring for me, and it can be dangerous. He’s quite the worrier, so he won’t let me assist ever.” You sighed.

“That’s so sweet of him, though! He wants to make sure you get a good night’s sleep and you don’t hurt yourself and all that. He’s just looking out for you, that’s why he won’t let you help!” Lissa chirped, and you gave a small smile.

“Well, you aren’t wrong, at least to a degree. I’m sure I’d be much more appreciative if you know…his chores didn’t take up all his free time.” You said with bitterness that made Chrom look over at you.

“I do apologize about that, my friend. However he insists on doing all the work. It’s just a part of his nature. He’s always been a hard worker. I’d offer to take some of his workload off, but last time I did that he moped around the castle for a while, then went and found some extra work he could do within the kingdom instead.”

“Ah, that’s right! I remember, he went around the shops and assisted store keeper’s with all kinds of work! It was strange walking into town and seeing him working with all those people. It was sweet, but still…it does tend to get out of hand, doesn’t it?” Sumia added, making Chrom smile sympathetically at you.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll get better. But until then, I’ll make sure you and Frederick are paired up during battles, since that really is the only time you’ll have to spend together, at least, for today.” Chrom decided, and you nodded in thanks.

“That is how relationships really grow stronger anyways, isn’t it?” Maribelle mused, turning to steal a glance at the young Ricken, whom she may or may not have been developing a slight crush on since he’d saved her life not too long ago.

“It’s how ours did, right, Sumia?” Chrom agreed, making said woman blush. You smiled softly at them. Chrom had recently proposed to her, and since she’d been smitten with him since they first met, she accepted instantly. Now that they were newlyweds, they were rather affectionate, even in public.

Which wouldn’t have been a problem, if Frederick was the same way. However, unfortunately, it wasn’t. At least, not anymore.

“Milord! The Risen are nearby. About 13 meters away. We must prepare to engage!” Frederick stated, suddenly riding up quickly. Speak of the devil.

“Thank you, Frederick. Go ahead and take your place. And Shepherds,” He called to the group behind him, “Prepare to charge!”

The Shepherds cheered their battle cry, ready to defend their home. Frederick nodded, pleased with the team. You had expected him to take his place by your side like he did when the two of you were first falling in love (he was absolutely captivated with you back then, and it was the rare moment in their lives when he didn’t like to leave you alone).

However he turned towards Lissa instead and readied his lance, asking her if she was ready to battle, and that he was prepared to defend her with his life. Needless to say, it stung quite a bit.

“Ah, Frederick, I believe it would be best if you partnered with Robin for this battle.” Chrom stated, gesturing to his tactician. You smiled up at him hopefully, shifting slightly at the mention of your name. Frederick only gazed over at his wife, the serious frown deepening. 

“But Milord, I don’t see why that is necessary.” He protested, making your fragile smile falter instantaneously. “Princess Lissa is still not finished with her defensive training, and it is my sworn duty to protect her with my life.” He continued, making Chrom sigh.

“I understand that, my friend. However I feel that you would be at a much greater advantage if you assisted Robin in her stead. You know, your wife?”  
“Well, I suppose so, but-”

“Don’t worry about Lissa. I’ll have Vaike team up with her and keep her safe, alright?”

“Regardless, Milord-”

“That’s an order, Frederick.”

“…Yes, my liege.” Frederick finally surrendered, and moved from Lissa’s side to yours. His reluctance made you feel slightly annoyed with your husband, and the feeling only increased when you noticed how he wasn’t even looking at you, but rather worriedly towards Lissa, who’d begun to tease Vaike as he sauntered up to her, looking rather careless and arrogant.

“So, um, a-are you ready to battle, Frederick?” You asked in an attempt to have conversation with your husband. Who had yet to even look down at you.

“Frederick? Hello! Frederick!!” You called to him, and he finally glanced down.

“Hm? Did you need something, Robin ?” He asked half-heartedly, obviously distracted by the fact that he couldn’t protect Lissa.

“Ugh, nothing…let’s just get this over with.” You muttered, deciding to stay behind him when the squadron charged forward, engaging the enemy.

* * *

You knew that battles hinged on the tactician’s decisions, however you were too distracted. Your personal issues with your husband (of all people), were causing you to get caught up in emotions, and you’d lost focus on the fight. 

Even while you shouted orders and helped others defeat the evil creatures, you could tell that your husband was still very concerned with protecting Lissa. So much that he was only engaging enemies targeting her and Vaike, at least that he could reach within the parameters you allowed him. 

And though you struggled to keep him as close as possible during the battle, one stray enemy that Vaike hadn’t seen was beginning to charge towards Lissa, axe raised and ready to attack while Vaike engaged another enemy. And Frederick was the one who saw it.

“Milady!! Look out behind you!!” He shouted, and spurred his horse forwards, racing towards the enemy with his lance poised to strike and defend the princess. You-who was supposed to be in the middle of fighting a Risen swordsman with your knight by your side-swiveled around just in time to see him rushing towards Lissa, totally abandoning you.

“Frederick?! Where are you going, I need you here with me!” You cried. Not that he could hear you, since he was already battling with the other Risen.

You would have said more, however you were suddenly cut off when you felt searing pain ripping through your core.

Then you noticed the sword blade currently sticking out of your stomach.  
The last thing you remembered when you hit the ground was seeing Maribelle galloping up to you and yelling something about staying awake.

And then everything went black.

* * *

“Are you alright, Milady?” Frederick asked Lissa seriously, and she nodded, smiling up at him brightly.

“Of course, Frederick! Thanks for having my back there. For a second I wasn’t sure I was gonna get out of this unharmed!” She replied cheerfully. Frederick nodded solemnly before turning to Vaike, anger pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“What were you thinking, Vaike? If I hadn’t come in when I did, Lissa would have been injured, and it would’ve been because you weren’t paying attention! You must be more diligent to your surroundings, especially when you’re supposed to be defending the princess herself!” Frederick scolded him, but Vaike only looked at him with a disappointed expression.

“You’re seriously givin’ the Vaike this speech? Why don’t you take a look in the mirror, big man. Last I heard, you haven’t been payin’ much attention to your wife, lately.” Vaike responded, making Frederick growl, approaching Vaike.

“Do not speak of my wife, and I’ll thank you to not lecture me on how I manage my personal life! I believe I’m doing perfectly fine. I’ve never taken better care of Robin since we’ve gotten married, which you wouldn’t know since you’re obviously never paying attention!” Frederick snapped, making Vaike laugh bitterly.

“Oh, really? Then care to tell me where your dear wife is right now, Frederick?”  
“Of course! She’s right over…there…” He trailed off, noticing that you weren’t where he’d thought he’d left you. However where he did point to, he noticed a rather alarming pool of blood seeping into the grass.

Where did you go…?

* * *

“I can’t believe him!” You cried in frustration, which made you wince in pain, the bandages around your middle reacting negatively. Maribelle sighed, casting another healing spell.

“You mustn’t push yourself, Robin. I understand you’re upset with your husband, but you’ll make all our hard work go to waste if you get too passionate.” Maribelle chided, and Lissa nodded, sitting on the side of the bed in the healing tent. 

“Yeah, Robin. I haven’t had to work this hard on healing someone since we’ve started this campaign! Although, I really shouldn’t be talking, since it’s my fault you got hurt…” Lissa admitted, but you disagreed, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“No, it’s not your fault, Lissa. Technically it’s Vaike’s, but Frederick should have known you’d be alright. Though the way he’s been lately, I doubt he even knows I’m in here.” You mumbled, and Lissa looked at you sadly, giving you a tight hug.

“Don’t be sad, Robin! I know Freddy can be a total idiot sometimes, but he does love you! Otherwise he wouldn’t have married you, right? I’m sure he knows that you’re here, and as soon as he can he’s gonna come in here and make sure you’re okay!” Lissa said optimistically. You smiled weakly, but you still felt the tears pricking in the corners of your eyes.

“I just…I wonder where it all went wrong. When did he stop caring about me…?” You asked sorrowfully, a salty drop falling from your eye. Both Maribelle and Lissa looked at you pitifully. But before they could offer any comfort to their friend, someone burst into the tent, looking positively anxious.

And you couldn’t believe who it was.

“Lady Maribelle! Is my wife in here? I was informed that she’d been wounded badly, a-and her life in danger…!” Frederick stated hurriedly, his serious demeanor gone. Maribelle glared at him, taking Lissa’s arm and pulling her towards the entrance of the tent.

“Of course she’s in here, you oblivious, apathetic oaf! She’s been here for hours, and we’ve been working our back ends off trying to keep her alive! You’re fortunate enough she’s stable, and awake now, in fact. You would do well to speak with her and make amends.” She stated coldly, and exited the tent with Lissa, who frowned at Frederick before they disappeared.

Frederick glanced back at them before turning, and his eyes locked with yours, who had quickly wiped away your tears so you could glare at him as well.

“Milady, are you alright?!” He asked worriedly, quickly approaching and pulling you into a tight embrace. Needless to say you were caught off guard.

“F-Frederick! What is this?”

“I was so worried when Prince Chrom told me what had happened. I didn’t realize you were gone until the battle was over, and I wanted to come see you right away! Do you feel alright currently? Or are you still in pain?” He questioned you, pulling away from you so he could see your beautiful face.

You only growled, pushing him away from you and removing yourself from his embrace. He looked pretty surprised, to say the least.

“M-Milady?”

“So now you care, huh?”

“ Robin? What are you talking about-”

“That’s what it takes for you to worry about me, right? I have to get stabbed through the stomach and bleed out on the ground, be gone for hours in a healing tent and be half-dead before you even give me a second glance?!” You shouted at him, and he realized then what you were upset about.

“M-milady, I apologize, I didn’t realize-”

“I’m well aware you ‘didn’t realize’, Frederick! It’s because you’re always worried about Lissa or Chrom, and if not them it’s all the chores and work you’re constantly doing! It’s like I don’t even exist anymore to you, isn’t it??” You continued, the hurt in your voice becoming more and more apparent to the stoic man.

“It wasn’t my intention to ignore you, Robin…”

“And yet here we are! I’m confined to this bed until they can get this hole in my stomach patched up and you’re just now realizing that you don’t even care about me! What a glorious day this has turned out to be! Gods, Frederick, I mean…why did you even marry me? If it takes this much for you to even consider another living being besides Chrom and Lissa, t-then why…?”

The tears were streaming down your face by the time you finished, and you couldn’t even look at him anymore. Frederick exhaled heavily, his breath shaking when he realized just how awful he’d been. 

It tore his heart in two to see his wife crying in front of him. The person he’d fallen in love with. And here she was, sobbing before him, and it was all his fault.

“R-Robin…I am so sorry. I had never dreamed of ignoring you or hurting you in the way that I have. In fact, I’d promised myself that I would never make you sad the day you’d accepted my proposal.” He admitted, sinking down onto the bedside and burying his face in his hands with a sad smile.

“Frederick…” 

“You have every right to be upset with me, my love. I haven’t protected you or treated you the way you deserve, and because of it you’ve been- …well, you’ve been hurt. You almost died, and it was because of me.” He carried on. Your tears had stopped by then. When he finally looked up at you, his eyes were rimmed with tears of his own, which made your breath hitch.

“You know, I’ve never been in love before, not in my entire life.”

“R-Really? Frederick, I didn’t realize…”

“Oh yes, it’s true. That’s why I’ve always worked so hard. I’ve never had any other priorities regarding people besides protecting the royal family and the Shepherds as a whole.” 

“I-I see…”

“In the end, the idea of having someone as wonderful as you a part of my already hectic life was such a grand idea, I didn’t even think about changing or doing anything differently after marrying you. It is my mistake, and I can only hope…that you’ll forgive me.” He finished, looking up at you apologetically.

You burst into tears, launching yourself onto your husband and wrapping your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly.

“O-Oh, Frederick!! I-I-I’m so sorry I got upset with you!! I didn’t realize a-and I got so jealous and… Gods, please forgive me!” You sobbed, burying your face into his neck as you cried. 

He sighed softly, willing his own tears away and wrapping strong arms around you, holding onto you as tight as he could without harming you.

“There is no need to apologize to me, Robin. I would never dream of hurting you, and letting you get injured today was the greatest mistake I’ve ever made in my entire life. Besides ignoring you and treating you so poorly. If anyone should be asking forgiveness, it’s me, not you.” He replied, kissing your forehead lovingly.

“And I forgive you! A thousand times over, I forgive you!” You cried happily, and he chuckled warmly, giving you a bright smile and pressing his lips to yours, giving you a kiss that made all the neglect forgivable. Well, for the most part.

“I swear to you, I’ll never treat you like that ever again, my love.” He promised you, wiping away the tears on your face with gentle fingers. You smiled widely at him, cuddling closer to him.

“And I’ll do my best to be much more patient with you. Well, as long as you promise me one thing…” You trailed off.

“Anything you wish for, my love, and you shall have it.” He swore to you, and you smirked, leaning up to his ear and kissing him just below it, murmuring,

“You make it all up to me tonight.” 

And believe me you, he did.


	2. Congested

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick rushes home from training new recruits in hopes of seeing his baby boy healthy, again. In the end, a pep talk may be needed to bring the little one back around (much to your amusement).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof it's been a little while// I want to post as much Fred stuff as I can here and spread the joy of Fredbo! <3 
> 
> Really excited to post this one, as it's my very first Tumblr prompt received for my dear husband :"D (First of many, mind you)

The cool breeze was more than welcome in the palace courtyard, challenging the burning heat despite it being sundown. August was a horrible time to be stuck with a baby, but you were happy for the chill relief all the same.

“Morgan, hurry up and develop stronger muscles and bones so you can sit on your own, okay? It’s already hot enough without you flopping around on my chest.” You joked, not particularly thrilled with the fact that mother’s bodies heat up on instinct to keep their babies warm.

While it was meant to help, it was only torture for you in the summer heat.

Regardless, Morgan didn’t seem to care too much, his breathing labored and pitiful. His head rolled about, weak against your shoulder. You’d noticed Morgan’s breathing had become erratic and forced, which troubled you so much you sought Libra’s help. Despite his assurance your two-month-old was only congested, Frederick was still mortified after he found out.

Frederick, while being a fantastic husband and diligent father, was still the ultimate overachiever when it came to protectiveness. He would’ve crossed the sea in search of a remedy for Morgan’s congestion, had you not stepped in that morning.

You sighed to yourself as you swung lazily on the wooden bench-swing, rubbing Morgan’s tiny back to soothe his troubled whimpers. Frederick had left to attend his knightly duties in quite a tizzy, near having to be torn from his son’s crib and tossed out the door. You shook your head at the thought.

“Your Papa is too worried for his own good, Morgan.” You murmured before planting a kiss in the peach fuzz atop his head. “Whatever shall we do for your father? He’ll die young from all the stress.”

“Bbbbbpth.”

“That sounds like a wonderful plan, dearest.” You smiled to yourself, the rocking motions beginning to lull Morgan to sleep. His little snorts and coughs began to lessen, which was a relief to you. It meant the healing process could begin and you could finally cool off.

“Robin!”

Or so you thought. You looked up from the snoozing child to see Frederick striding towards you, his armor already gone. While you enjoyed seeing him in his butler-esque suit, you still quirked an eyebrow at him when he sat beside you and carefully placed a hand on his son’s back.

“What are you doing here so early? Normally it takes a good hour before your armor is off and polished. You should be finishing the cool-off drills right now, in fact.”

“I ended the drills early so I could come see you both.” He explained quickly, though his gaze remained fixed on Morgan. “How is he?”

“Morgan’s still congested, but I think his breathing’s starting to improve some, at least.” You said hopefully, but Frederick’s frown only deepened. His fingers came up to touch Morgan’s puff of hair in a soothing manner, as if his touch might ease the baby’s ragged breaths.

“And you are sure there is nothing we can do?” He checked, and you nodded with a sad smile when you saw how distraught he looked.

“There aren’t enough herbal remedies in the world to cure bad luck, my dear.” You said, stroking Morgan’s back when he sniffled and whimpered. “The best we can do is hope and pray he’ll recover soon.”

“I wish there could be something. Anything.” Frederick sighed, “It’s torturous listening to him struggle like this. he’s only seven weeks old. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“Life can be cruel sometimes.” You replied with a shrug, but you understood Frederick’s heart completely. No parent wanted to see their baby in pain, after all. But since you couldn’t do a thing about it, you opted to comfort the breathless baby the only way you knew how; lots and lots of mommy cuddles.

“I’m sure there’s some remedy out there we could try, we just haven’t found it yet.” Frederick said softly, stroking Morgan’s cheek. “I refuse to believe that all I can do is listen to my son fight to breathe. Perhaps if I visit Libra again, he may have discovered an herbal mix for Morgan that–”

“You’ve already seen the man six times in the last two days, Frederick. I’m sure if he found anything, he would have told us by now.” You cut in, your reasoning making the smallest of pouts appear on his defeated visage. “Oh, don’t do that. I know you’re worried about Morgan, but you know it’s nothing dangerous he’s dealing with. He’ll be all right in a few days. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be completely healed by tomorrow!”

“I can only pray the gods would be that kind.” He mumbled, looking down at his little boy with the most love you’d ever seen in a person. “I should hope you recover quickly, Morgan. You’re the child of the greatest tactician in the world, and she’s never gotten sick, you know.”

“I believe you mean he’s the son of the healthiest, most powerful knight in the halidom. The only person I know who can kick a cold an hour after contracting one.”

“That just means his recovery shall be twice as quick.” He reassured with a sudden confidence that made you smile. “I look forward to seeing you fully recovered, little one.”

“Mmmmuh.” Morgan squeaked out, huffing loudly and shifting in your arms. You tried to shift him back, since he was bent on burying his face in your chest. And that unfortunately meant he wouldn’t be able to breathe worse than already.

“Goodness, you’re just full of wiggles today.” You laughed humorlessly, and your exhaustion finally reared its ugly head. Frederick, being Frederick, noticed this immediately and touched your hair, smoothing it away from your face in a soothing manner.

“I think you’re in need of some rest, milady.” He murmured, and carefully lifted the essentially weightless baby boy from your hands. “I will take care of Morgan. You go and lay on the bed. You look like you could use a brief respite, and you feel warm, too. A bath in cool water would be recommended.”

“I’m not that tired.” You protested (though it was defeated when you stifled a yawn). “And I’m warm because I was holding Morgan. It’s a mother thing, that’s all. Body heat rising to help the baby, that’s all.”

“I feel that’s a bit unnecessary, given the heat of the season.” Frederick said with the matter-of-fact look that made you shrug again.

“Don’t criticize me, take it to Mother Nature. She’s the one who gave me the mommy heat, not me.” 

“Regardless, it’s about time you relax a short while. Go ahead and return to our quarters. I will be there to prepare dinner shortly.” He informed you, and a dreamy smile crossed your lips.

“You are too good for this world, Freddybear.” You smiled and pecked his cheek. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

“I won’t be here too long.” He promised with a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. You grinned once more before heading off, leaving Frederick to look after his sweet little son.

You peeked out the window of the bathroom later to see Morgan lying on Frederick’s lap, his father trying to loudly encourage him to recover quickly, pumping his fist in the air or something strange.

You proceeded to tease him about cheerleading a two-month-old baby when he returned from the gardens.


	3. Jealous Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick gets rather jealous when Virion's flirtatious tendencies are imposed on you.

Take two of the people Frederick trusts the absolute least in the entire army, and what do you get?

A very jealous lieutenant.

The mathematics didn’t make sense, but Frederick was never one for the sciences or numbers. Yet as he stood there, carefully surveying the mysterious, wealthy archer and the amnesiac tactician, he found his hand clenching into a tighter and tighter fist.

He stares after you, the only woman who knew about his aversion to bear meat, and was willing to help him overcome it. And now he found himself growing more attached to you over time. No matter how hard he fought the instinct, he found himself looking over at you more, watching your every move, from the way you smiled and laughed to how your brow creased so deeply when planning your strategies.

Something that he noticed you’d begun to do more of with that pesky “archest of archers”. His frown dipped a bit lower at the thought of you and Virion in the barracks, together, playing some fool game of chess. It was so strange and unprecedented. After all, no self respecting woman such as yourself would spend so much time alone with a womanizer like him.

…Right?

“Ah, I see. Because that left my vanguard’s flank exposed. You really are excellent at this, Virion.”

Frederick perked at the sound of your voice. Not quite catching the entire conversation, he was able to hear enough that the pair of you must have been playing that strategic game again.

“Nonsense! Why, you’re winning almost one in three matches as of late! The pace of your progress is frankly somewhat frightening.” The honeyed voice of that weasel Virion replies. Frederick noted his frown deepening just at the sound of the man’s voice. He’d need to keep that in check, should he ever have to converse with him again.

‘Though I pray that may never be the case.’ He thought, noting the conversation had suddenly taken a different turn.

“…And I am burdened, Virion. Sometimes I feel as if I could drown on dry land. The army relies on me to plan their every move and tactic. I lack the experience for such responsibility. It’s enough to make a woman flee in terror.” He hears you say, and something tugs at his heart from the fearful worry in your tone. He wishes he could say something, but Virion beats him to it (well, that and he’s feigning ignorance to the conversation).

“And yet here you remain, when a lesser soul might have turned craven and ran. Such actions have earned you the respect of us all, you must know that? And regardless of this game, your skill on a true battlefield approaches genius. I am content to place my life in your hands, and that says a very great deal.”

He’s taken aback by the strange humanity in Virion’s reply, but of course he should ruin it shortly afterwards. Frederick’s grip tightens on the spears he’s “checking over” when Virion speaks again.

“Goodness, Virion! I think that’s-”

“And if those honeyed words are not enough to aid your slumber? Then I shall be happy to lie in your cot and whisper a sweet lullaby while you-”

“Not happening.”

“Oh, do not be so modest, my dear.” Virion chuckles, unaware of the lieutenant marching towards them at a dangerous speed. A rate that increases when Virion takes your hand in his, kissing the back of it. “Surely I can assist you in some way. Perhaps an evening with-”

“Virion, there you are. Princess Lissa was asking for your assistance.” Frederick literally came out of nowhere, making you jump and swivel around to face the dashing man. “Something about a letter, I believe.” 

“Oh ho, so it seems the princess cannot suppress her own curiosity when it comes to a handsome devil like me. I told you, Robin, no woman can resist my charms.”

“Of course, Virion.” Your response, though sarcastic ruffles Frederick, though he doesn’t let it show. Virion bids you adieu, singing something about returning to fight you again some day. You wave him off, turning to Frederick.

“You know, if he ever bothers you, I can take care of him for you.” Frederick offers, and you smile. “He’s known for doing much more than simply spouting words. I wouldn’t wish for him to take advantage of you.”

“I don’t think that’ll happen. Virion’s a flirtatious one, but I doubt he’d try and do something like that. But thank you all the same. I owe you one for getting me out of that situation. It could have turned embarrassing very fast.” You laughed sheepishly, which Frederick met with a forced smile. “Well, I suppose I better clean up the game. Wouldn’t want to leave a mess.” 

“Would you mind if I assisted you?” He asked, and you looked a little surprised by his offer. Though you happily accepted, glad to have the handsome knight assisting you with something as menial as a board game. “…Oh, and Robin?”

“Hm?”

“If…if you are ever feeling burdened…you can always come to me for help. I’ll be happy to listen to your worries.” He said, and that made your heart skip a beat. He looked very sincere, borderline deadly serious. A huge grin broke onto your face, and you nodded vigorously.

“Thank you, Frederick. I’d like that a lot. In fact, I think I’d love it.” You reply, which in turn gives Frederick a smile all his own.

Virion returned from Lissa’s letter interrogation shortly after with the intent to assist you in cleaning, but he paused outside the tent upon hearing your and Frederick’s voices. The lieutenant sounded happier than he’d ever heard, which in turn lead to a sneaky grin slipping onto his lips.

“You cheeky devil.” He chuckled to himself, stepping away from the tent. Perhaps he should take Frederick into town tomorrow; He stumbled across a lovely jewelry store that had an enticing selection of rings. Surely, Frederick would be able to find something for you.


	4. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick consults Libra about rather interesting dreams he has about a certain lovely tactician. An interestingly odd misunderstanding ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day!! I'd like to bestow as much Fred love as I can here so I hope you enjoy :")

“I’m not sure what ails you, Sir Frederick.” Libra said to the lieutenant, who sat across from him in the healing tent with a concerned expression on his face. “You appear to be in perfect condition, save for a little fatigue.”

“That can’t be right.” Frederick replied, having come into the tent via Cordelia’s request. He’d tripped over a pebble he must have missed when clearing the campsite earlier in the week. However that thought worried him; he never “missed” a pebble, much less because of being distracted or dizzy.

“Perhaps you’ve been working too hard.” Libra suggested, but again Frederick shook his head. “Or…you haven’t been sleeping? Though I doubt that. You’re always one for working hard and sleeping well. Surely it’s the workload you’ve been carrying.”

“Er, no, I’m afraid it’s the latter.” Frederick admitted, looking down at his hands. “I haven’t been sleeping well these last few, well…weeks.”

“Weeks?” Libra repeated with wide eyes, and he stared at him in disbelief. “That cannot be true.”

“I’m afraid it is.” Frederick sighed in defeat, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “I’m was hoping I might be able to remedy it.”

“Well, I could give you an herbal remedy, but it depends on what the cause is.” Libra responded carefully. The knight paused, his cheeks coloring ever so slightly.

“The cause would be, uh…dreams.” He replied nervously, making Libra’s eyes narrow.

“May I ask what kinds of dreams?” Libra questioned next, and Frederick worked very hard to maintain his composure.

“Some would classify them as good dreams, I’m sure. But I feel that in my case, they’re more embarrassing. Shameful, even.”

“So…you haven’t slept in weeks over…shameful dreams?” Libra reiterated a summary that just made Frederick feel foolish.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Are they of a woman?”

“…Yes…”

“Who?” Libra continued, knowing he was pushing his boundaries. But it was important to know the answer. “Is it someone married?”

“Married? Oh, gods no. I’m not so lecherous!” Frederick denied it quicker than Lon'qu striking a critical. Libra grew quiet again, thinking over the situation.

“Is it someone you fancy?”

“I don’t see how prying into my personal business will assist with the situation, why-”

“Cordelia.”

Outside, they heard something fall, making both glance outside the tent. Nobody had been around to listen in, so surely it hadn’t been a person. They dismissed it as a small animal, Frederick finally discovering the right words thanks to the brief distraction.

“…N-no, it is not Cordelia. Though she was kind enough to help me these last few weeks, it is fairly obvious she would prefer Lord Chrom over me, regardless. The one I have dreamt about has been…the…er, tactician.”

“It’s not like you to stumble over your words.” Libra said with an amused glint in his eye, turning to search for the proper herbs to remedy the situation.

“I’ve never dreamt of someone so vividly.” Frederick responded simply, looking down at his hands. Libra hummed, placing a small bottle of liquid in said hands and making the lieutenant meet his gaze.

“Have you ever considered telling Robin this? After all, one can only assume these dreams are a cause of a deep affection for ‘the tactician’. And she hasn’t fallen into the arms of another, not yet. It would be wise to make your move before someone else does.”

Libra’s words lingered, the silence still before Frederick rose, an awkward “thanks” escaping his lips before he left the healing tent. It was dinner time, which meant he’d have plenty of time to mull over what the war monk said.

_‘Of course it’s a deep affection. She’s driving me mad.’_ Frederick thought with a deep frown, seriously thinking about the advice. _‘I can’t simply tell her that I love her because I’ve been dreaming about her. …Gods, anything but that.’_

Considering the dreams were of the less savory sort, he didn’t wish to scare you away by telling you of them. They were more reserved for lovers, not some knight with a terrible infatuation. He’d have to come up with a solution that evening.

* * *

When everyone else left for the mess hall, you remained cooped up in your tent. You didn’t want to go there, you couldn’t; You were a little too bleary-eyed and red-faced to be considered presentable. Besides, someone would ask what was wrong, and you couldn’t tell them that.

After all, you’d been sneaking about outside the healing tent, and you were listening in on Libra and Frederick’s conversation. You weren’t supposed to hear it, and you immediately regretted what you did.

In your defense you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you were delivering an armful of logs to Kellam to keep the campfire burning. And when you passed by the tent, you heard a very interesting sentence come out of Libra’s mouth.

“So…you haven’t slept in weeks over…shameful dreams?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Your eyebrows rose at the sound of Frederick’s voice, and you found yourself stepping closer to the wall of the tent. Frederick wan’t sleeping well? That was odd, he was always in top physical condition.

It was out of concern you continued to listen, but you regretted it the longer you stayed.

“Are they of a woman?”

“…Yes…”

A woman. That could be any woman in the camp. The conversation grew dim in your mind for only a moment, trying to figure out who it could be. In the back of your mind, you hoped it was you. 

“Is it someone you fancy?”

“I don’t see how prying into my personal business will assist with the situation, why-”

“Cordelia.”

You gasped in surprise, the logs dropping from your hands with a loud clatter. Cordelia? Why would it be Cordelia?? The tent was silent, and you realized they heard you drop the logs. You clapped a hand over your mouth and made a break for it, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping on a doctor and his patient.

_‘Gods, that was stupid!’_ You berated yourself, running through the camp and finding solace in your tent. You sealed it shut, breathing heavily and making sure nobody saw you. After a few seconds of quiet, you considered yourself safe and sank onto your cot.

_‘Cordelia…why Cordelia, of all people?’_ Your thoughts returned to the single woman Libra had said. She was beautiful, and talented, but certainly not someone you would have considered Frederick’s romantic interest. _‘Though come to think of it, they’ve been spending a lot of time together.’_

Whenever Frederick wasn’t eating bear meat with you, he was walking with Cordelia. You’d noticed it, but didn’t think anything of it. Nor the way she smiled and teased him, or how he looked at ease by her side, compared to the crinkled expression he wore with you (that was more the bear meat’s fault than yours, though).

“Ugh… Foolish, foolish Robin.” You whispered, covering your face with your hands. You knew you liked him. Scratch that, you absolutely adored him. He was handsome, and strong, and one of the kindest men you knew when he wasn’t a stern protector.

He was the kind of man you wanted to marry.

But here you were, tears slipping from your eyes at the realization that he didn’t reciprocate those feelings. All those days of small smiles and fighting to defend you, weren’t acts of anything more than friendship. And to be perfectly honest, it sort of destroyed you inside.

You didn’t let yourself wallow long, though. It would be childish to let yourself cry. So you pushed the tears away, slapping your cheeks to get yourself back together. It was time for dinner, and you weren’t going to miss a meal over love lost. It was unrequited, anyway, so he didn’t even have to know, lest things be awkward for him and…Cordelia.

You sat on the far end of the table that evening, putting as much distance between you and Frederick as possible.

He was determined to find you. The last few days, you’d been avoiding him relentlessly. You assigned him to pair up with Chrom during battles, or Lissa, saying that it was his duty to protect them over you in the first place. Even if he tried to get out of it (which he never thought he’d do in a million years), you insisted you’d be fine on your own.

At camp, you were quick to dismiss yourself from counsels or chores, particularly when he was nearby. It wasn’t hard to see that you were avoiding him, and it made his heart sting quite a bit. Confusion was evident on his face when he made his way to your tent, determined to get you to at least pay attention to him.

Instead of directly asking you what the problem was (which you had a knack of weaselling out of whenever he tried to), he figured he’d try a different approach.

“…Who is it?” Your voice came from inside the tent when he tapped the sealed flap, and for a moment he almost felt relieved; It was nice to hear more than a “yes” or “no” come out of your mouth, save for those dreams. …Ugh, those dreams.

“It’s Frederick, milady. I was hoping I could ask for your assistance, today.” He responded politely, and he could have sworn he heard you gasp. There was some scrambling around, frantic noises, and for a second he considered checking on you. “Er…is everything all right?”

“Y-yes! Yes, everything’s fine! Just give me a second, I’ll, um…” The tent flap suddenly yanked open, and he found himself looking at a frazzled, wide-eyed Robin. “Is there something you need? I’m a little, er, busy.” 

“Busy?” Frederick repeated, quirking an eyebrow, “Well, if that’s the case, then I suppose I won’t bother you. I was hoping you would be willing to help me with the bear meat, today. But if you can’t then I understand-”

“N-no, it’s fine!” You interrupted him, shaking your head, “It’s fine. Let’s…go get some practice.”

“Thank you, Robin. It means a lot to me.” He replied with a small smile, one that made a strange sadness wash over your eyes. Frederick didn’t question it, rather he was holding his tongue to keep from asking what was wrong. It wasn’t the right moment, not yet.

But he would get an answer out of you.

* * *

“…This blasted meat is going to be the death of me.” Frederick choked out, managing to swallow a gamey bite of mutton. Mutton was almost as bad as bear, depending on how it was prepared. And considering this one was prepared poorly, it was basically the same thing.

“Hmm?” You sounded distracted, your gaze focused on anything but the man sitting directly across from you. “…What was that?”

“Milady, I understand that bear meat training isn’t the most exciting thing, but I would appreciate it if you would look me in the eye, at the very least. I’m a human too, you know.” Frederick huffed, frowning at you. Concern tugged at his lips, his tone nothing but worried for you.

“Oh. I-I’m sorry, Frederick.” You managed, meeting his gaze for only a moment. “Perhaps we should call it quits for today. You got to mutton, which is good. We’ll work our way up from there some other day.”

“But we’ve only just started.” Frederick protested, his worry increasing when you looked away from him again. “Robin, please-”

“I’m feeling a bit unwell.” You mumbled, but he stood, not ready for you to leave yet.

“Wait just a moment.” He stopped you, making you turn to look up at him. “Robin, don’t you remember what I told you before? If you’re ever burdened, you can come to me for help. Please, milady. Let me help you.” Frederick insisted gently, and you sighed, a wobbly frown on your lips.

“I-it’s just…” You hiccuped, which caused the knight to instantly be at your side. He sat you down, coming next to you and taking a handkerchief from his pocket.

“Here, don’t cry. It’s all right, you can tell me.” He murmured, placing a tentative hand on your back. After all, he’d only dreamed of touching you, literally. And more often than not those touches were a bit more intimate. “What’s the matter?”

“I-I…well…y-you see, I,” You paused, searching for the right words. Heavens take you if he found out you were speaking of him, “I recently discovered that…someone I care deeply for is in love with another. In fact, they’ve been so enamored with this other person, they’ve hardly had time to look after themselves. And it’s…it’s just that I never noticed it until now, when I heard that he cared for this other person.”

“…I see.” His voice sounded strained, and looking up you saw a flash of disappointment on his face. You thought it odd; What would he have to be disappointed about? But you brushed it off, wiping away your tears and placing the kerchief in your coat.

“Yes, it’s a bit of a disappointment, but…I’m sure I’ll get over it.”

“Have you considered telling this person how you feel?” He offered, though the advice sounded weak, as if he didn’t want to offer it. Your lips were pressed into a thin, forced smile.

“I don’t think they would want to hear it. In fact, I doubt it would even sway their decision. Besides,” You sighed, “I wouldn’t want to make the situation more awkward for them than it already is.”

“Hm. …Well, I suppose I can only suggest that you work to let this person go, whoever it may be. It’s unfortunate that they didn’t see your affection for them, and chose another over you. You’re a very talented and special woman, Robin. I think it would be wise to pursue someone who appreciates you more than someone who doesn’t even notice you. There are plenty of others who see you that way.”

_‘I see you that way.’_ The thought lingered in his mind, watching as your resolve began to repair. You nodded, offering a small smile as you stood.

“Thank you, Frederick. That’s…that’s a very good idea. Thank you for that advice.” You replied softly, looking much better than before.

He was right; You shouldn’t linger on him, even if he was everything you ever wanted. There were others who cared deeply for you, and surely one of them could grow to love you. Swallowing your personal feelings, you headed for the tent flap.

“Anything for you. I suppose I’ll see you later this evening?” 

“Sure.” You nodded, pausing at the opening. “I’ll go wash your kerchief and bring it to you then. Wouldn’t want to give this back to you with my tears all over it. Someone might suspect something.” You joked somewhat, earning a confused smile.

“Er…right.”

“Oh, and Frederick?”

“Y-yes?”

“…Good luck, with Cordelia. I’m sure she’ll be happy to know how much you care for her.” You finally said, and walked out of the tent feeling a mixture of bitterness and relief. Bitter, because you hadn’t exactly meant to give that away, but relieved, because now he knew how you felt.

And oh, did he know.

“Wait a minute– Cordelia? What do you mean, Cordelia?” Frederick tried to call after you, but you were already out of earshot. He looked dreadfully confused, until it clicked.

The crash outside the tent, the reason you’d been avoiding him, the tears…

_‘Dear Naga, she heard me talking to Libra.’_

“ROBIN, WAIT!!”

You paused when you heard Frederick shout, turning back to see what was wrong. What you didn’t expect was to see him trip over the bench and crash to the ground, muttering a flurry of curses and bright red in the face.

“What in the world…? Frederick??” You managed, watching him rush towards you with dangerous speed. “ Frederick, slow down! You’re going to-”

“I’m not in love with Cordelia!!”

Everyone within a mile radius could have heard what Frederick said. Your eyes grew wide and you gasped, feeling the stares of near a dozen Shepherds on the both of you. Frederick was breathing heavily, looking down at you with the most determined expression you’d ever seen.

“F-Frederick, what are you-”

“I’m not in love with Cordelia, that was a misunderstanding.” He repeated, quieter this time.

“That’s not the problem! You just shouted to the heavens those words and now you’re the center of attention!” You whispered fiercely, burying your face in your hands when he slowly realized you were right.

“…Oh, dear.” He glanced around, then grabbed your hand and tugged you towards the nearest tent; His. “We should probably continue this in private.”

“That sounds about right.” You muttered, letting him pull you along. He couldn’t have shut the tent flap faster, and swiveled around to grasp your shoulders in a very strong grip. “Frederick-!”

“Listen to me, Robin.” He cut you off, his sincerity alone enough to silence you (well, that and his amazing jawline). “…I’m not in love with Cordelia.”

“You’ve made that very clear, Frederick.”

“It was merely a guess as to who I was referring to with the dreams I’ve been having, and Libra guessed incorrectly. Though I suppose you didn’t stick around long enough to realize who I meant, seeing how upset you’ve been. And I apologize deeply for that, it was never my intention to hurt you in such a way.”

“I-it’s all right.” You replied then, struggling with the next few words. “I suppose my question is, who were you referring to? W-with the ‘shameful dreams’, and all.”

The man’s face turned red as Sully’s hair when you mentioned the dreams, but it only made you more curious. “You didn’t…happen to be talking about…me…were you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. I see.” You tried to contain both your excitement and embarrassment, gazing at your feet in an attempt to distract yourself from your burning ears. “And these, er, dreams? They’ve been keeping you up at night?”

“I’m afraid so, milady. They aren’t the kinds of dreams I can simply talk about in public, not in the slightest. Though Libra did suggest I come to you and tell you about them, in hopes it would help me sleep better.”

“And that’s all he wanted you to do?” You began carefully, making him become flustered in his own way. His hands left your shoulders, and they came to be clasped in front of him, unsure of what he should do.

“W-well, no. He also suggested that I…tell you how I feel.”

“How do you feel?” You continued, a smile breaking onto your face when you realized exactly where this was going. He spluttered for a second, and you feared his head would explode considering how red he’d become. “Frederick?”

“I wish I didn’t have to tell you under such embarrassing circumstances.” He mumbled, rubbing his face tiredly. You giggled, grasping his hand and bringing his attention back to you. “R-Robin.”

“Just tell me. I’m just as embarrassed as you are, so there’s no going back!”

“In that case, I suppose I have no choice.” He smiled back, pushing away his shame and taking your other hand in his as well. “Robin, I have come to care…deeply, for you. I’ve found you consuming my thoughts both day and night, to the point that I haven’t been able to sleep for nights on end. You’re…y-you’re beautiful, and talented, and a wonderful person. More wonderful a person than I ever hoped to meet.”

“Oh, Frederick.” You breathed, not believing what you were hearing. But that wasn’t even the best part.

“I love you.”

“I-I…” You hiccuped, tears brimming in your eyes. You threw your arms around him and leapt up, hugging him tightly as you laughed. “I love you, too!”

He grunted when you hit him, instinctively wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from falling. There was a bit of a height difference, after all. But none of that mattered when you tugged him closer, burying your face in his neck.

“And to think I almost lost you to a misunderstanding.” You murmured against him, and he could feel the heat radiating off your skin. He chuckled softly, giving you a light squeeze.

“I wouldn’t have let you go on believing such a thing, trust me. I couldn’t bear to think of you always, and never see you again because of something so silly.” He managed, breathing in your sweet scent. It was a moment neither of you ever wanted to end, but eventually you had to let go.

“I’m glad to hear it.” You murmured as he set you down, his hands lingering on your waist. He nodded, fingertips brushing past your hair with a warm smile on his face.

“Now I suppose I should let you go, hm? I’m sure there are some people that have questions in need of answers.” He figured, and you remembered the multiple Shepherds that were staring at you earlier. You could practically feel their eyes on the tent, now.

“Er, I think you’re right. Best we quell any rumors now, before it’s too late.” You reluctantly stepped away, but a sudden idea popped into your mind. “Though..if it’s not too much trouble,” You opened the tent flap, and turned back to him with a wink, “I’d love to hear about those dreams some time. Perhaps this evening?”

“What-?!”

You laughed loudly when you escaped, planning to tease him all throughout dinner about these little dreams of his.

And when your honeymoon rolled around? He was more than happy to show you.


	5. Vacation Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to quit with all that extra working, Freddybear!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, sorry it's been so long- I want to do a couple chapters tonight for you guys to make up for the absence! :)

“Frederick? It‘s late…are you ready for bed?” You asked your husband of two years, but you didn’t receive any response. Humming curiously, you wandered out of the bedroom, poking your head into the small living area that made up part of the castle quarters the two of you shared.

He was nowhere to be found, which made you even more perplexed. But before you turned to check the kitchen, you heard a soft snore come from the desk by the window. You grinned, giggling at the sight.

There was Frederick, his head resting in his arms, fast asleep over a stack of rather mean looking paperwork. You sneakily walked up to the desk, a bright smile on your face as you did, brushing your fingers gently across his face.

Almost instantly he woke up with a start, sitting straight up. He looked dazed, and a little confused about where he was, but then his eyes fell on you, and he relaxed. 

“Hmm…Yes, Robin? Did you need something, my love?” He asked you groggily, and you giggled again, kissing his forehead. He wasn’t wearing his armor, rather his normal suit, the one he wore when doing work around the castle or whenever he went out into the kingdom for errands or shopping.

You mostly loved it because it gave you more access to him, and not only that but a great view of those muscles. Because, let’s face it; Your man was pretty hot.

“Oh, nothing much. Just wondering when you’re planning on coming to bed. Unless you wanted to spend the night with your work, which I understand. I’ll just be lonely is all.” You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your forehead against his. 

His eyes closed again and he hummed, weaving tired, strong arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

“I apologize, my love. I’ll come straight to bed as soon as I finish this last bit of paperwork. You don’t mind, do you?” He asked carefully, opening his eyes again to see you pouting.

“I do if it means you’re overworking again!” You protested softly, and he sighed, kissing your nose.

“I’m not overworking, dearest. Just trying to finish up some documentations for Lord Chrom. It should only take a few minutes longer.” He insisted, and you sighed, pulling back to look at him seriously.

“You promise you’ll come to bed as soon as you’re done?”

“I promise.” He responded sweetly, and you gave a small smile, glancing back at him one more time before disappearing back into the bedroom. You crawled under the covers and sighed, having a feeling that he wouldn’t make it to bed until you were already asleep.

And that was the last thought you had before drifting off to sleep, all alone in the bed for another night that week.

* * *

When you woke up, you were alone. No surprise there, since Frederick enjoyed waking up at extremely early hours in the morning to get ready for the day. It was a bad habit of his, and you desperately wanted to break it.

You yawned and stretched, slowly getting out of the bed and swapping your nightclothes for your regular outfit, slipping on your good old coat for the final touch. You fixed your hair just the way you always did, and gave yourself a quick once over in the mirror before stepping out of the room to get a start on your day.

That is, until you heard a very loud snore coming from the desk by the window. You groaned exasperatedly, and stomped over. There was Frederick, slumped over his work still, though the stack was smaller than before. 

With a grunt you pulled the stack of papers out from under him, causing his head to fall onto the desk and smack into the wood, which woke him right back up again.

“What in blazes–?!” He cried, looking annoyed. Until his eyes locked with yours. And then he realized what position he was currently in with you. 

“Good morning, my darling Frederick! How did you sleep last night?” You asked with fake sweetness, a rather cold smile plastered onto your face. Frederick immediately went to apologize.

“I’m sorry, Robin …I had every intention to come to bed with you last night, but when I got back to work, it all just started blurring together…to be honest, I don’t even remember falling asleep.” He admitted, making you sigh and your anger dissipate. You knew he’d never lie to you, which only made you feel more frustrated since you knew he was just working way too hard.

“Frederick, really…you should stop working so hard all the time! You’re being given too much work and it’s really starting to wear you out. Shall I go have a word with Chrom about lightening the work load?”

“What?! No, that’s not necessary!” He quickly protested, and you frowned, knowing how much he enjoyed working. It was top priority to get things done all the time, in his book. Which only made spending quality time with your husband harder.

“Are you certain?” You asked him cautiously, and he nodded vigorously, pecking you on the cheek as he stood up, moving the stack of papers to the side.

“Absolutely, my love. Now I do believe I need to get myself ready for the day, assuming I’m not already late.”

“If you say so…but do me a favor and bathe before you leave, will you? You’re starting to smell like Gaius on a bad day.” You told him, and he blushed, giving you a sheepish smile before agreeing and hurrying towards the bedroom, shutting the door to the adjoining washroom.

You peeked into the room quickly to make sure the washroom was really closed off, and to your delight it was. That meant you’d be able to sneak out and take care of some business just before he finished his bath.

Without a second to lose you raced out of your shared quarters, and sped towards the main courtyard of the castle, in search of one person in particular. 

Or rather, one princess.

Because if anyone could help you, it was Lissa. And seeing as you weren’t allowed to ask Chrom to lighten the load, she was your only option at the moment.

“Lissa!” You called out when you saw her walking among the flowers in the garden, Maribelle faithfully walking with her. You noticed both of them had their sons with them, Owain and Brady playing with each other in the grass while their mother’s strolled. You never would have guessed how cute those two would be when they were little kids.

“Oh, Robin! How are you, this morning?” Lissa asked you cheerfully as ever, and you smiled at her as you approached, curtsying respectfully to your princess and dear friend.

“I’m doing quite well, thank you Lissa!” You replied, making her giggle. Maribelle offered you a mischievous smile, adjusting her hold on Lissa’s arm.

“And what of your dear husband, Robin? I trust he is doing well, too?” She questioned, but you shook your head, a slightly frustrated smile tugging at your lips.

“Unfortunately, no. He’s been working way too hard again. This is the third night I’ve had to go to bed alone and wake up to find him sleeping at his desk. He just won’t stop working, and I fear it’s because he’s taking on too much work for one person.” You informed them, making Maribelle shake her head.

“I can’t believe he’s truly changed so little since the two of you first married. He’s still such a hard worker. If he keeps up the way he is, he’ll work years off of his life!” Maribelle chided, and you nodded in agreement.

“I know, and that’s why I’ve come to you for help. Lissa, would you be so kind as to, well…more or less just take away all the work he’s got for the next few days or so?” You asked her hopefully, and she blinked, surprised by the question. But a big grin spread across her face just as soon as she processed what you’d asked.

“Really?? You think that’s a good idea? I mean, I’m more than happy to give him a vacation for a little while, but what’re you gonna do with him for that long? You know he’s just gonna mope around the whole time, right?” Lissa pointed out, but at this you winked at her, beginning to walk back towards your quarters.

“Oh, don’t worry. I think I have a few ideas!” You told her, making her blush and giggle at you, Maribelle doing the same. 

You would have shamed them for thinking so suggestively if you’d had time, but to be honest you didn’t. Frederick was probably finished with his bathing by now, seeing as he was always quick to be done, so you hurried back to your quarters and burst through the door, making a beeline for the bedroom.

There was another reason why you didn’t shame the girls for their suggestive thinking. And as you stripped yourself of your clothes and let your hair fall, you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself. It was because they were right.

You heard him beginning to walk towards the door of the washroom and you gasped, snatching up your clothes and tossing them somewhere unseen, then grabbed the blankets on the large bed and wrapped yourself up. You placed yourself on top of the bed, your body completely hidden by the blankets except for your face, which turned towards the washroom as the door opened.

Frederick stepped out, clad in only a towel and carrying his dirty suit in his hand. He cast an odd glance towards you, pausing. You had to refrain from drooling over the sight of him.

“Robin? What in the world are you doing over there?” He asked you curiously, and you giggled, shuffling around on the bed in your blankets.

“Waiting for you to come get in bed with me.” You responded gleefully. He smiled at you before turning back to the chest of drawers that held his clothes

“That’s sweet of you, but you do know that I have to go to work. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass up on your request.” He told you, but you only giggled again.

“Not if I asked Lissa to clear your schedule the next few days.” You stated, making him freeze and swivel around to face you. You weren’t sure if he was horrified, angry, or both.

“You did what?!”

“I just told you, silly. You’re whole schedule has been cleared for the next few days! Lissa’s giving you a mandatory vacation, which means you don’t have to work for an entire week!” You informed him, and you noticed his shoulders droop. He obviously wasn’t happy. Well, not yet, at least.

“And what is it you expect me to do for the next week, exactly?” He demanded, sounding annoyed and a bit sad at the same time. With a knowing smirk, you rose up on your knees, and let the blankets fall around you. Frederick’s eyes grew wide, and his face red.

“Oh, I had a couple ideas~” You sang, posing yourself seductively. It took him about two seconds to come over to you and tackle you down, caging you underneath his muscular, now completely naked body.

“And now, so do I.” He mused huskily, and with that leaned down to kiss you roughly.  
You had a feeling this vacation was going to be a pretty great one already.


	6. Overworked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time he should've taken the hint(s).

You knew it wasn’t your place to say anything, really you did. But the fear of your beloved lieutenant working himself sick was constantly tugging at your heart. 

Not that he knew he was your beloved lieutenant, that is…yet.

It was more of a humongous crush, and as far as you were aware it was one-sided. Frederick didn’t trust you as much as the others, since you were still considered the suspicious outsider of the group. 

Slowly but surely you were beginning to worm into his heart, or so you hoped.

There had to be something between you, considering the fact he welcomed your conversation and was happy to partner with you in battle. He gave you advice and instruction all the time, and you truly enjoyed being around him. He would smile sometimes, sincerely. 

If that didn’t mean anything you didn’t know what did. That was the premise for the reason you walked towards his tent with shaky steps, swallowing your personal fears and worries to confront Frederick. Because for some reason he’d begun to work himself terribly hard.

Maybe it was because he’d spent so much time teaching you instead of doing his regular duties, or when you helped him with the bear meat and whatnot.

Either way, you strengthened your resolve, tapping on the fabric of his tent and awaiting his reply.

“State your name and business.” Frederick’s voice was cold and stern, as usual, but you could easily detect the hint of exhaustion in his tone. You swallowed thickly, your arms coming to fold in front of your chest.

“It’s Robin, Frederick. I was hoping I could speak with you about something important.” You responded, and for a moment all was quiet. Maybe he didn’t want to see you, or he was so tired he didn’t even realize you’d spoken. A couple other weird, totally off-base worries skimmed through your mind before the tent was opened, and Frederick stood before you in all his knightly glory.

“Robin? Why are you visiting so late?” He asked, tipping you off he wasn’t entirely there, at the moment. You tilted your head, a nervous smile on your lips.

“It’s actually pretty early in the evening, Frederick. The sun hasn’t even gone down yet.” You pointed out, and he glanced up at the orange sky, blinking when he realized you were right.

“…So it seems.” Frederick grimaced, and it was then that you noticed the lines on his face, worry lines normally hidden by rich brown hair that was disheveled, bags darkening under his eyes and his frown strained and drawn. He wasn’t looking good, at all.

“May I come in?” You asked after a moment of quiet, and his face flickered, as if waking from a trance. “It’ll only be a moment.”

“Er, yes, of course. Please come in.” Frederick managed, stepping aside to allow you into the tent. You stepped in a tad awkwardly, repressing the urge to blush at the thought you were alone, in Frederick’s tent. Alone. In Frederick’s tent.

It was a bit messier than you’d imagined.

“What can I help you with, Robin?” He asked you, snapping you out of your thoughts and bringing your attention back to him. “It isn’t anything extensive, is it? I’m afraid I’ve grown a bit busy as of late, and I must return back to-”

“-That’s the problem, Frederick.” You cut in, interrupting him from the start of what was sure to be a list of the ever important work he had. “I think you’ve been working too hard.”

“…Come again?” Frederick looked a touch lost, and you sighed, gesturing to the tent around you.

“You’ve been doing too much work, and it’s starting to affect you negatively. I mean, just look at your tent! It’s a mess, and so is your health.”

“My tent’s not in…horrible disarray.” Frederick replied slowly, glancing around the area. You weren’t wrong, the place was a bit of a mess. Only a bit, though (that he was willing to admit). “And my health isn’t in question. I’ve never felt so good in my entire life, I assure you, I’m perfectly fine.”

“Then how do you explain the bags under your eyes?”

“I…was in a fight…recently.” Frederick said slowly, and you nearly facepalmed. Was the sternest of lieutenants actually making an excuse? You looked up at him, folding your arms with a frown on your lips.

“Frederick, you’re lying.”

“I assure you, it’s nothing you need to worry about. My health is my business, as is the cleanliness of my tent. I appreciate the concern, but you needn’t trouble yourself.” He assured you in a rushed manner, but you could tell he was subtly trying to kick you out.

“I do need to worry about it Frederick. If I don’t worry about you, then who will?” You point out, and he falls silent, his gaze averted to the ground. “You’re always concerned for the wellbeing of everybody else, but never yourself. In fact, the workload you’ve taken on is probably to help somebody out there, right? Chrom, or Lissa, or the camp, or-”

“-Seven villages along the border threatened by Plegia’s attacks in need of supplies and medical assistance-”

“-And there it is.” You sighed, crossing your arms again. “It’s stuff like that, on top of running the war and managing all sorts of situations in the army, that doesn’t do you any good!”

“Someone must do it, and considering there were no volunteers, I took it upon myself. Is that so wrong?” Frederick attempted to reason, but you nodded vigorously, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“It is when you’re neglecting yourself in favor of your work!”

“Robin, please. I will be fine. As soon as the work is done I’ll get rest or whatever it is you need me to do, but for now I have to take care of these things.” 

“But Frederick-”

“-No buts, just let me do what needs to be done.” Frederick silenced you, turning away from you to busy himself with his desk. You fell silent, watching him attempt to straighten various documents, his fingers working with a slight tremor that only a trained eye could detect.

“Frederick…” You trailed off, stepping towards him. You weren’t willing to give up just yet, lest you fail as the protector of the camp (Frederick seemed a touch jealous about that fact). Quietly you walked up to him, and caught his hands in yours. 

The sudden touch made him freeze, the papers slipping from his normally iron grip. Frederick gasped softly at your contact, not expecting it from a comrade, let alone you.

“Robin-”

“Your hands are shaky, Sir Lieutenant.” You murmured, holding his hands close to your face. Frederick didn’t dare move an inch, his entire face lit up like an Arcfire. But what happened next he never would have expected.

Your lips touched his fingers, pressing a lingering kiss to his hands.

“R-R-Robin–?!”

“Promise me you’ll get some rest, soon. Your body needs it.” You said in a soft voice, releasing his hands and offering a weak salute. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Frederick.”

With that, you disappeared, leaving the knight rooted to the spot and staring at his hands. The feel of your lips against his skin was a sensation that sent tingles through his spine. Warmth exploded through his body at the simple gesture, and he was certain he’d traded the shaking digits for a Sully’s-hair-red face.

 _‘That’s preposterous,’_ He thought to himself, busying himself by slipping off his armor, _‘It must have been a heat flash as a result of my exhaustion. …Yes, that sounds about right.’_

He found his shirt removed as well as his socks and shoes, and following that he fell onto the cot, drawing the covers around him and face buried in the pillow.

 _‘Perhaps some sleep would do me well.’_ He continued in his mind, arm curling around the pillow. _‘Though it won’t be because of Robin’s orders, but of my own accord.’_

His gaze lingered on his hand, the feeling of your lips continuing to burn pleasantly on his skin.

“…Robin…”

Frederick hadn’t slept so well in his entire life. Though he did deny it when you commented on how much better he looked the following morning, asking if he took your advice. In the back of your mind, you both knew it was true, though.

It was only a matter of time before he’d admit it.


	7. The First Night Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war was finally over.
> 
> You could breathe air again, knowing you were heading for a time of peace. You were both excited and nervous at the same time, though. Excited because you could finally spend time with you husband, Frederick. And nervous, because…
> 
> Well, you had yet to tie the knot.

The war was finally over.

You could breathe air again, knowing you were heading for a time of peace. You were both excited and nervous at the same time, though. Excited because you could finally spend time with you husband, Frederick. And nervous, because…

Well, you had yet to tie the knot.

Being in wartime, the only proof you needed of marriage was the ring on your finger. Of course that was all well and good, but the rules were different when peace came.

What entailed the marriage customs in peace times usually had something to do with the whole concept of consummating the marriage with your husband or wife.

And now you were here, walking down the corridor alongside Frederick whose arm was linked with yours. He looked excited, you could tell. Though many would have considered it passive coolness, it was easy for you to see the bright grin hiding behind the even smile.

“You’re going to love it here, Robin.” He said to you, giving your hand a small squeeze as you turned the corner. “I’m honored to share my home with you.”

“I’m honored you even proposed to me in the first place.” You replied breathlessly, making him chuckle lightly.

“Of course, you mean everything to me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I hadn’t married you before someone else.” You blushed when the sheer sincerity in his words hit your ears. He really was everything you could ask for.

The problem arose when you realized how he planned on proving that to you that evening. If he was even planning on “cementing” the marriage.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush!” You giggled, which in turn made a deep, throaty chuckle fall from his lips. Frederick squeezed your hand again, pausing in front of a very lovely, polished door.

“You think you’re ready?” He asked you next, his hand poised over the door knob. You nodded, and again his fingers lingered. “I know this place will seem strange at first; It isn’t your home, but I hope in time that you’ll be able to accept this place as yours.”

“To be honest I’m excited about it.” You reply making him quirk an eyebrow, “I mean, I don’t remember having a home before I met you, Lissa and Chrom. The closest thing to home I recall is my tent, and I think we’re all tired of sleeping on the ground.”

“You make a good point.” Frederick grinned, looking down at you with total adoration in his eyes. “In that case, allow me to welcome you to our home.”

You couldn’t help the smile that broke onto your face, nearly jumping in excitement when the door was opened. You gasped the second you adjusted to the moonlight filtering in, your eyes growing wide.

“Frederick…this place is beautiful!” You breathed, looking around with a fantastically innocent expression he couldn’t help but stare at.

“This is only the beginning.” He responded to you, and he lead you into his soon to be shared quarters. Frederick took you around the small kitchen area, the common room, his office that was closely attached to his very own (yes, his very _own),_ washroom, and last but not least, his bedroom.

“I think this is my favorite place.” You murmured, staring at the simple, wonderfully neat and light-filled room with a broad smile. Two large windows stood on either side of the bed, which was set in the center of the room’s wall. A wardrobe in the corner you didn’t doubt he built himself, his crest embedded on nearly every piece of furniture…bed included.

“I was thinking we might be able to make a few changes once we’ve gotten you all settled in. Perhaps a chair over there, with a bookshelf on the wall so you can read beside the window. That way you can get the most light.”

“T-that sounds wonderful.” You breathed, following his finger to one of the window panes. He released your arm to wrap his around your shoulder, turning you to face the opposite end of the bedroom. 

“And also a vanity, so you can dress yourself properly. I think you would enjoy having a mirror, so you could really get a look at yourself.”

“Are you implying I’m in need of ‘cosmetic improvement’?” You quirked an eyebrow, assuming he was hinting that you weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world. He shook his head, smiling warmly as he leaned closer to you.

“I thought it would do you good to look at yourself. After all, it’s not every day someone sees a woman as lovely as you. It seems you just need a little convincing.”

“Hmm…” Your frown faded into a smile as you looked up at him. “So I’m _just_ lovely?”

“I didn’t say that.” He turned to you, catching your hands in his. His face came closer to yours, both of you forgetting the door was still open and anyone walking down the hall would be able to hear you. “You’re also gorgeous…heavenly…some would even go so far as to use the term ravishing.”

“I wasn’t aware ‘ravishing’ was on a higher level than ‘heavenly’.” You giggled, making him smile wider and come ever closer. Your noses almost touched, and you weren’t sure whether you were loving this or growing more nervous.

“In my book, you’re all those things, and more.” He murmured, lifting you up from the floor in a sudden movement, hoisting you up by the waist. “If you’d like, I could always prove it to you.”

“Frederick! Put me down!” You laughed, letting him spin you about the room with your hands grasping his vest in a desperate attempt to keep your balance. Lucky for you, his shoulders were broader than the castle walls, which was something you definitely enjoyed.

“Not until you’re thoroughly convinced that I mean every single word I say.” He muses, spinning you around the room once more.

“I’m convinced! I-I believe you!” Your peals of laughter only made him smile more, settling you down on the floor. His lips touched your forehead, giving your waist a squeeze.

“Good.” Your gaze was shining and innocent against his warmth, which left you momentarily so he could change. “I think it’s time we retired for the night then, don’t you?”

“R-retired?” You repeat with an unexpected stutter, which went unnoticed by Frederick when he turned, unbuttoning his vest and shirt. You instantly swiveled around, your back facing him instead of watching the beautiful show.

“I would hope you’re not against sleeping. I know you tended to ignore it in favor of practicing your battle techniques, but it’s peaceful now, remember? You can afford a few extra hours of sleep.” 

“T-that’s not what I meant.” You squeaked, growing tense when you felt his hand on your shoulder. “Y-you want to go to bed…together?”

“I thought that was implied, yes.” He replied, his hand moving from your shoulder to your arm. “What kind of husband would I be if I made you sleep on the couch the first night?”

“That might not be a bad idea, actually.” You mumbled, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the man. Frederick gently turned you around, tilting your head up to look at him and meet the concern in his gaze.

“You aren’t serious, Robin.”

“…Well…”

“You’re serious.” He realized, taking your hands in his with a sudden firmness that revealed the tension he felt. “Why do you feel this way? Did something happen? …Did Virion say something to you?”

“No, it’s not like that!” You quickly protested, and his hands gave yours a squeeze, urging you to continue. “I’m just…not sure I want to do anything.”

“Do…anything?”

“Y-you know! I mean, we’re married but we’ve never shared a bed, and we’ve never…y-you know…” You trailed off, the pink tint to your cheeks telling Frederick everything he needed to know. He mouthed an “oh”, and you watched the blush rise on his cheeks.

“Then…what you’re saying is you don’t want to do anything?”

“Not yet.” You replied, assuring him you weren’t completely against having interactions with your beloved. You married him for a reason, after all. A part of that being that beautiful body that you would love to touch. “I’ve only been here a short while. I just…need some time to adjust.”

“Of course. That makes perfect sense.” He murmured, releasing your hands and backing away, holding his chin as he thought about the situation. “I shall respect your need for space, but it wouldn’t do to leave you alone.”

“I don’t want to be alone, either.” You confessed, looking down at your toes. Frederick sighed, placing his hands on your shoulders to gain your attention.

“Then how about you sleep here, with me? But we don’t have to…do…anything, if you don’t want to.” He offered, cupping your cheek and giving you a smile. “It’s more than enough to simply be by your side.”

“Are you certain?” 

His lips touched your forehead. “Entirely.”

“I…guess we should start getting ready then, huh?” You offered a weak smile, and he nodded, kissing your lips. Then he moved away, allowing you to consult your bag for sleeping clothes. Eventually the both of you were changed, and you found it somewhat refreshing to see Frederick in something other than a suit or armor (though he looked strapping in both).

“Shall we, then?” He gestured to the bed, slipping his hand in yours as he led you over. You gave him a small nod, allowing him to basically escort you to your side. “I believe it’s been an exhausting day for everyone, you especially.”

“While I prefer modesty, I believe you’re right.” You agreed, earning a soft chuckle from your husband. He climbed into the other side of the bed, turning to face you with a warm smile on his face.

“I would think you’re allowed to indulge yourself every once and a while. Draw a little attention, perhaps.” He replied in a soft voice, and you grinned. You allowed him to draw you against his chest, your hand resting against his toned muscles and feel the steady thrum of his heart.

“Who knows…maybe I’ll indulge myself a little more often.” You whisper in a tone that makes him quirk an eyebrow, looking down at the lovely woman in his arms.

“Is that so?” He asked through the darkness, and you nodded, resting your head against him.

“It might take a little time, but I’ll be sure to let you know when I’d like to partake in a little extra attention.” You murmured against him, and you could’ve sworn you felt him shudder.

“I’ll be waiting. Until then, sweet dreams, my love.”

“Goodnight, dearest.” Your whisper earned a kiss to your hair, making tingles of happiness shoot through your system. It felt so right, being surrounded by the one you loved so intimately, yet with no need for intimacy. At least, not yet.

You had the best night of sleep ever that you could remember, making sure to let your husband know that you were perfectly rested the next morning.

You made sure to thank him a few nights later, when you were finally ready to “indulge” in your husband’s delightful presence. Trust me when I tell you

You definitely did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a lot of angst coming after this lolol...I'm going to try and smother you in fluff before it hits, though. xD Hang in there kids!!


	8. Broke Water

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Frederick asks, his grip firm but gentle on your arm as he escorts you to the council room down the corridor. You smile and nod, a tentative hand on your nine-month-pregnant belly.

“I’m fine, Frederick. I think I can handle swollen ankles, after all.” You respond sweetly as you waddle alongside him. Frederick made a small noise of disagreement, one you’d grown accustomed to hearing often in the third trimester.

“Your ankles have swollen, again?” He paused, looking at you seriously. “In that case, we must call off the meeting. I’ll alert Lord Chrom that you’ve retired to our quarters due to health issues and reschedule for another-”

“-Honey, I’m fine.” You interrupt his anxious planning with a squeeze of his hand, “I’ve lead an army through two wars and killed the Fell Dragon, myself. Do you seriously think I can’t handle a little pain in my legs?”

“I’m…aware you can handle it,” He started, a frown tugging at his lips, “It’s just that you don’t have to. I’d rather avoid risk where I can, my sweet.”

“That’s very kind of you dear.” You smile up at him, touched by his concern. “But I’ll be perfectly fine. Baby Morgan’s put me through all nine Hells and back, so there’s nothing I need to worry about.”

“…Even so…”

“After the meeting’s over, how about I go to bed and rest?” You offered compromise, knowing he wouldn’t relent as usual. He seemed to be semi-satisfied with your answer, giving your hand one more squeeze before heading for the door.

“That sounds reasonable enough.”

“Good. Then let’s get this meeting over with, shall we?”

The pair of you stepped into the broad room, surrounded by dear friends who were all excited to see you and the growing baby mountain that had become your womb. Near everyone else already had their children in the three years you were gone.

Now you were back, you were determined to finally have your own. Though you didn’t expect to be fawned over by your lovely friends. Frederick tended to get a touched unruffled when they did, citing his protective nature when he saw his wife getting swarmed by a herd of females.

“Aah, look at you!”

“Morgan’s gotten so big!”

“How much longer until he comes out?”

“I’m so excited to see what he looks like as a baby!”

“All right, all right, let’s pull the focus back.” Chrom said from the far end of the table, much to Frederick’s relief. He’d grown awfully stiff next to you, ready to remove you both from the onslaught of women.

“Agreed. We came here to discuss village needs, not smother Robin.” He lead you away, helping to ease you into your seat once the council room settled.

“Now then, let’s begin. Sir Frederick has procured an excruciatingly detailed summary of homes along the borders of Ylisse, and what they may need to maintain themselves. We’ll begin with those, and go from there.” Chrom stated, gesturing for Frederick to begin.

“With pleasure, Milord. If you would all be so kind as to withhold any questions until the end of the report, that would be appreciated. I’ll be sure to keep it brief, as I know they can tend to get a bit dull the longer they are.” Your husband informed them all, and for once you were thankful for his extreme over-observational skills.

For once he was using them for good. Though that didn’t mean the report wouldn’t still be fantastically long, which earned a collection of groans and grumbles when he procured a ten-page collection of reports with really tiny handwriting.

You could barely read it yourself, and you’re renowned for having miniscule, scraggly penmanship of your own. So as Frederick began, you took to sinking down in your chair, watching him read off the lists with your cheek resting in the palm of your hand.

You all were going to be here for a while.

_POP_

Or so you thought.

“…Erm…Frederick?”

“I have received reports of the northwestern village near Ferox has been dealing with problematic weather affecting their shipments of medicinal supplies, among other necessities. It would be wise to look into repairing the roads so they are more efficient for-”

“Frederick.”

“-Their needs. Furthermore, a small town that operates as a fishing village forty-two miles south of theirs has begun to be negatively affected by waste leaking into their river’s water supply, killing off fish. A filtration system will need to be installed near their dam to keep this from happening, as well as a review of the town north of it that’s causing the leakage.”

“Frederick, I need-”

“-If you could please keep your comments until the end that would be appreciated.” Frederick cut you off gently, though his stern expression told you it would be best if you didn’t reply.

Unfortunately, Morgan did not feel the same way inside your womb.

“Following the waste issue, Southtown has seen a sudden increase in predators near their borders. Bears and wolves alike have been spotted on multiple times in the field, so we should look into reinforcing defenses and possible training for a militia to handle the wildlife-”

“-My water broke.”

“-And to keep the beasts from attacking any– _What??”_ Frederick suddenly snapped his head towards you, who was currently clutching a very painful tummy, offering him a strained smile at the sight of his bewildered expression.

“I’m going into labor.”

“Oh gods!” Chrom clapped a hand over his mouth, just as squeals erupted from the women around you. The blood drained from Frederick’s face when you said it, eyes widening in shock.

“Y-you’re going into-?!” 

“We need to go, dear.”

“B-but the– How can you be doing this now? The baby’s not due for another week!”

“Well he’s coming now!!” You said through gritted teeth, making him panic all the more. You bit back a groan of pain, watching Lissa and Maribelle come around you, Cordelia, Sumia and Sully joining you as well.

“What are we gonna do?!”

“We must remain calm and get her to the delivery room, immediately!”

“How are we going to get her there from here??”

“Frederick, I trust you have no qualms to carrying your wife to the room, do you?”

“Carry her? But she can’t be going into labor, it’s not time for him to be born yet!!” Frederick was protesting your current state with the most flustered expression you’d ever seen. Your screech was the only thing that convinced him Morgan was coming right now, though, so you weren’t sure how to feel about that.

“Just shut up and take her!!” You heard Panne order him from afar, and he didn’t hesitate after that. He scooped you up in his arms, carrying you with the smallest tremor in his fingers. You grasped onto him for dear life as he literally ran you down the corridor, leading the ladies to the medical wing of the castle.

“H-hold on my lady, w-we’ll be there soon!” Frederick assured you, though it was hardly necessary to hear from him. You weren’t really listening, anyways, considering the pain wracking through your body. “Robin, did you hear me? We’re almost there, don’t worry, we’re-”

“I HEARD YOU!” You shout, though it only served to make your poor husband’s anxiety worse. He held you tighter, sprinting down to the delivery room and rushing you inside. You could feel him growing more and more upset, which you would have tried to assist him if you weren’t currently dealing with horribly painful contractions.

Maribelle hurried in behind Frederick, with her and Lissa’s help removing the tactician from his arms and onto the bed she’d definitely be stuck in for the next 23 hours.

“All right, you’ve done enough. Go out and wait until we call you back in!” Maribelle told Frederick seriously, her focus completely on your form.

“What? But I have to stay, what if she gets hurt? I need to be here with her, I have to-”

“Out now!!” Maribelle shoved the lieutenant out before he even had a chance to fight her. He stared at the door slammed in his face.

“B-but…”

“Don’t worry, Frederick,” Chrom came up behind him, clapping a hand to his shoulder, “Even if you managed to stay, it wouldn’t be for long. Robin would kick you out before you even got to the bedside.”

Frederick glanced over at him, the anxious worry completely etched in his expression. “But what if something happens…?”

“Regardless, she won’t want you to see. The best thing you can do is sit and wait.” Chrom assured him, making Frederick sigh, taking a shaky seat outside the room and hope he could see you soon.

About 23 hours later, he finally got a chance to break in, seeing a sweet little baby swaddled up in blankets, cradled close in your arms.

You were covered in sweat, blood and tears, but he’d never seen you smile so big in his entire life. A wide, warm one broke onto his face as well, when he got to hold Morgan for the first time.

It quickly faded when you teased him for freaking out the day before.


	9. A Touch More Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried, really Frederick tried, to keep a level head. But when his wife is constantly surrounded by men at all hours of the day, every day, it’s difficult to accomplish. It happened in pieces.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. He tried, really Frederick tried, to keep a level head. But when his wife is constantly surrounded by men at all hours of the day, every day, it’s difficult to accomplish. It happened in pieces.

From the morning, Ricken having stolen you away to help him perfect techniques with magic. He’d been passing by, checking on one of the campfires, and he caught sight of him grasping your hands. His grip on the log in his hands tightened.

Virion winked at you while he strolled by, despite you having been taken by the valiant knight for literal months. If anything it was his fault you two were even married! And here he was, flirting with you out in the open? 

Frederick had him assigned to stable duty a few minutes after.

Stahl had asked you to help him with moving some crates then, and Frederick offered to help in your stead. He wasn’t sure how he felt about your insistance to do it, leaving him to watch as you helped the cavalier. His body jerked forward to help when you faltered, but Stahl helped you instead.

He disapproved of the hand touching, passionately so.

And then…Chrom. LORD CHROM. Frederick fought the urge so hard, he was sure his brain nearly exploded. But when his arms wrapped around you to steady you from a trip, which he hated himself for not catching you instead. Particularly seeing how protectively, and carefully he handled you, it struck a chord.

Not just any chord; it was the “why-is-he-still-touching-Robin-after-she’s-been-upright-for-ten-seconds” chord. Frederick kept his composure as best he could, his head tilting to the side to avert his jealous gaze from being caught by the ever-observant wife.

“You okay now, Robin?” Chrom asked you, his hands still lingering on your arms. It was to the point even you thought it was a bit much, but he was still a single pringle, and you were pretty good friends, so you imagine he wished for the familiar touch of a significant other.

Though you were sure to establish that person would not be you, especially after glancing at Frederick to see he was red in the face and more tense than usual. “I’m all right now Chrom, thank you. You can let go of me.”

“A-ah, yes, of course.” He releases you immediately, hands falling back to his sides, “You’ve been a little unsteady as of late, though. Are you getting enough rest at night?”

“I’ve been sneaking in a few late hours here and there for planning, but I usually have Frederick to keep me in check.” You mention the knight’s name, and he glances up at you, the knowing expression on your face alerting him that he’d been caught in the jealous act.

“Make sure you avoid those late nights too, Robin. I won’t have our chief tactician stumbling about because of a few extra words she had to write on the parchment.”

“Oh, please, it’s nothing like that.” You laugh, and you’re pretty sure Frederick’s glaring at you, now. “I’ll make sure to get a little rest today though, if it’ll make you feel any better.”

“That’s a splendid idea.” Frederick suddenly cut in, his arm linking with yours, “In fact, I’ll escort you back to your tent right now.”

“I-I didn’t mean right this second,” You attempted to protest, a quirky smile on your lips when you noted the strained one on his, “I still have things I need to do.”

“It can wait. You’ve done plenty today, already.”

“But they’re things I need to do with Chrom. You know, the Exalt?”

“It can wait.” Frederick repeated, growing exceptionally more impatient each second. Chrom observed the exchange for only a second before deeming it too dangerous to take you away, and waved his hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry about it, we can have our meetings later. I think some rest would do you good right about now. It seems you’ve had a pretty busy day today.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You chuckle, waving goodbye to your friend just as Frederick lead you away. You glanced up at your husband, who was staring straight ahead, striding towards your tent with an expressionless face.

“Though…am I to assume my busy day has yet to end?”

“Oh, my dear,” He takes you into the tent, turning you around so your back was to your desk, trapping you between his arms and leaning dangerously close to you, “It’s only begun.”

With that, his lips pressed to yours in a desperate, needy kiss so passionate it nearly made you faint. The force behind his actions left you clutching his arms for support, which he reciprocated by wrapping them around your body, hoisting you up to sit on the desk and keep you in place.

“This will be a meeting on why you shouldn’t tease your husband when he’s in your midst, surrounded by throngs of your male comrades.”

“So you _are_ jealous.” You say breathlessly, finding your words after breaking the kiss. Frederick growled, and slid a hand under your shirt to reach for a rather dangerous area.

“Perhaps I am,” He started, another fervent kiss dropped to your lips, “Which is all the more reason to make sure you pay attention throughout this council.”

“I’ll try…” You moan against him, making him grin that devilish little smirk you only saw on rare occasions like this.

“Brace yourself,” He gives you a squeeze, “This will be a rather lengthy conference.”

You weren’t going anywhere, anytime soon.


	10. The Swimming Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick and Robin bond over more than just bear meat.

“Frederick!” You called after the dashing lieutenant, whose attention was caught instantly. The man turned to face you, offering a small smile as you caught up to him. To his surprise, you weren’t reciprocating that smile, but looked strangely concerned.

“What can I do for you, Robin?” Frederick asked, and you didn’t respond until you were standing right in front of him. “Is…something wrong?”

“No, not exactly. Well, that is, there’s something that’s bothering me, and I was hoping you would be able to help me.” You told him looking down at your hands with a rather sheepish expression. For a fleeting moment, Frederick found it cute, “I was wondering if you could teach me how to…er, swim.”

“I see.” Frederick finally replied, hands folded behind his back. “May I ask why you’d like me to help you?” His question lead you to shrug, looking down at your fingers again.

“You’ve already trained me many times, and you’ve proven to be a fantastic instructor. I’d prefer if you were the one who taught me this, too. Also because you’re one of the few I’m comfortable with sharing this information.”

“Ah, so it’s a type of payback for my confiding in you over the bear meat.”

“Not exactly, but I suppose it would be a touch unfortunate if people were to discover your little aversion to a certain breed of meats.”

“So it is blackmail.” Frederick grimaced, making you grin and shrug. He sighed heavily, unsure of how to respond to your wonderfully chipper attitude. “…Fine, then. Meet me down by the riverside after dinner. Dress appropriately, and we’ll begin our first lesson. Deal?”

“Deal!” You respond instantly, turning on your heel to return to your tent. He couldn’t help but notice the incredibly happy aura you exude, while his was much more ominous.

_‘Pray this does not end as badly as I fear…’_

* * *

The time for your swimming lesson finally came around, and simply put you were excited. There was no way you wouldn’t be able to learn this, now that you had the mighty Sir Frederick to instruct you. And mighty he was indeed, when you saw him wading in the water. Were those muscles even real?

“Right on time, Robin.” Frederick regarded you as you stepped down to the river bank, and you were thankful for the dark that hid your blush.

“Of course,” You slipped the coat from your shoulders, revealing the simple, borderline small clothes of swimwear you wore (thank Outrealm Anna for that one). You couldn’t tell whether he was staring or not, but you definitely felt a pair of eyes on you, “I can’t afford to pass up an opportunity like this. Especially if my teacher is the fanatically fit Freddy Bear.”

“I didn’t think it would be possible for that ridiculous name to get worse.” He grumbled, hands on his hips, “Regardless, it’s time to begin the lesson. Step into the water.”

“Er, aren’t you a little far out?” You glanced at the water, but he waved his hand dismissively. “ I mean, I can’t exactly swim out that far.”

“It seems this will be more time consuming than I thought.” Frederick murmured, stepping through the water until he was close enough to extend a hand to you. “Come, we will begin with the basics.” You were already blushing at the sight of him, but taking his hand? You couldn’t handle it.

“T-thanks.” You stutter, holding his hand and letting him lead you into the flow of water. The pinch of nervousness built when the water began to move all around you, swallowing you up to your waist. Frederick felt your grip tighten, but didn’t call it out. You were nervous enough already.

“And so, we’ve arrived.” You heard him say, stopping you both towards the middle of the river. Thankfully it was a shallower stream, though the water came up to your chest.

“This is, eh, a touch deep, isn’t it?” You commented, feeling the colder water at the murky bottom submerge your toes. You didn’t approve of the slippery rocks you stood on.

“Nonsense.” He brushed it off, shifting in the water, “This is a perfectly acceptable depth for you to begin swimming. Now, I believe it’s high time we began, don’t you?”

“Ah, sure. L-let’s give it a try.” The shakiness in your voice wasn’t even bothered with, but Frederick was quick to ease your nerves.

“Worry not,” He assured you, giving your hand a faint squeeze, “I won’t allow you to drown or be swept away. What kind of knight would I be, then?”

“I suppose you have a point.” You smile weakly, and force your nerves away. With that, your training began.

You’d never been so sore, flushed and exhausted in your entire life. Frederick worked you hard, moving from floating on the water to four different strokes. His arms guided yours nearly the entire time, making it impossible to focus and even harder to apply what you didn’t learn.

* * *

The lesson took longer than you’d anticipated.

“I’m…so glad…it’s over.” You huffed, sprawling out on the grassy bank and relaxing your dying limbs. Frederick retained the blush at the sight of your very exposed body completely open on the ground. At the very least you could close your legs (had no one taught you proper etiquette? Maribelle would be reeling if she saw you like this).

“You handled the basics fairly well, though I must note that you were a little more distracted than I’m used to. Normally you’re much more focused.” His comment made the redness on your cheeks return like he had throughout the training, knowing it must have been bad if he said something about your lack of focus.

“With a body like that it’s hard not to.” You mumble, glancing away when he sits next to you.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” You quickly recover your tracks, knowing better than to test your luck. Fortunately Frederick didn’t push further, instead taking your coat from where you’d set it.

“At the very least, you should get some rest soon. It’s late enough as is,” He draped the coat over your body, “Knowing you, you’ll try to sneak in a few hours mapping out some new strategy.”

“So you covered me up with a coat so I’ll sleep now?” You quirk an eyebrow, touched by the gesture. It turned to amusement when he began to stumble over his words.

“W-well, I thought it would serve better if you were covered. Someone could be frightfully startled if they came down the bank and saw you so…vulnerable.”

“I see, ‘vulnerable’.” You repeat the awkward excuse with a soft smile, knowing he wasn’t one to trip over his words. “I appreciate the gesture all the same.”

“Of course, milady. Aside from that, exposing yourself to the cool weather could lead to a cold, and we can’t have that.” He responded simply, making your smile widen. Frederick could be so thoughtful.

He rose up from his seat then, grabbing his own shirt and covering that lithe body you’d grown rather attached to.

“Heading back so soon?” You open your eyes, snuggling further into the coat and silently hating how disappointed you sounded. A rare smile crossed his lips, and Frederick nodded.

“I am afraid so, milady. I have to prepare the camp for the morning, after all.” He explained, and you realized then the sky was no longer dark, but slowly turning a pale gray. It helped you realize with dread just how long you’d been practicing.

“Besides,” He muttered, “With a body like that, I can only control myself for so long.”

You bit your lip so hard you were sure it was bleeding. Trying to keep from laughing and screeching at the same time, you watched the knight disappear from the riverbank and return to the camp. You were quick to button up the coat and clean yourself up.

Frederick might need an extra pair of hands to set up camp, after all.

With bodies like yours, who knows what could happen after that?


	11. Confession Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only you weren't such a sleepyhead.

The moment was absolutely perfect; you had offered to help him handle a variety of letters and paperwork in his tent, with him, and it was just the two of you. It was after dinner, late into the hours you worked, and the sky had long gone dark.

No one else was around, nor would be; it was just the two of you.

Frederick had excused himself from his tent for a moment, in order to procure some tea for the both of you. Little did you know, it was but a ruse. Leaving the tent was only to mentally prepare himself for what happened next;

His confession.

_‘Come on, Frederick old boy, you can do it.’_ He thought to himself as he stepped into the kitchen, his mind completely focused on anything but the tea he prepped on the tray, _‘Robin’s only a woman. The woman of your dreams, but certainly not an enemy to be vanquished. There’s no need to be nervous.’_

He tried to assure himself, setting two glass cups carefully onto the silver as well before taking it with him back to his tent. Glancing up at the sky, he realized just how late it was; the moon was already beginning its downward descent, despite it being pitch black outside.

_‘The absolute worst that can happen is she doesn’t reciprocate my feelings.’_ He continued in his mind, coming ever closer to the tent he had distanced himself from in anticipation of this very moment. _‘While it would be soul-crushing and devastating beyond comprehension, I’ll survive.’_

The very idea of you rejecting his affections set his stomach lurching with an uncomfortable, ominous feeling, he swallowed the foreboding sense of failure.

_‘She won’t reject me, it’s physically impossible. She’s hinted at a sense of attraction towards me just as I have her. She’s not one to lead a man on, so…she must feel the same.’_ He concluded, pausing in front of the tent with a steeled resolve.

_‘I will not fail, there’s not even an inkling of a chance.’_ His brow furrowed, a serious grimace on his face. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the tent flap.

“Robin, I have something I must tell…you…?” Frederick trailed off, staring at the dimly lit scene before him. There, slumped over at his desk with candles puttering out beside you, was the Chief Tactician. You were completely asleep, head resting in your arms and not a care in the world on your face.

_‘Perhaps I failed to account the factor of over-exhaustion.’_ He thought to himself, setting the tea aside with a small sigh. Without a word, he put out the candles beside you, and carefully lifted your body from the chair to his chest. It wouldn’t do to let you sleep like that, lest you suffer an aching back and neck the next morning.

_‘I suppose this confession will have to wait for another evening.’_ Frederick carried you from the tent without a word, making sure nobody would see you both. He was quick to bring you to your own, glancing around before slipping inside. _‘When she’s not so tired from work.’_

With surprising grace he settled you down on your cot, ensuring he didn’t jostle you around too much and risk waking you. The blanket was drawn over your body then, and he looked down at you with a certain fondness. There weren’t many people out there who worked themselves to exhaustion after all, aside from him.

Despite it being an unreasonable practice, he couldn’t help but admire you for it all the same. He looked forward to spending more nights with you, coaxing you to bed some nights and you doing the same for him on others.

Frederick’s fingers brushed a few strands of hair from your face, a peaceful expression he would etch into his mind to remember forever. Such an angelic look was hard to come by these days, and he’d learn to relish it later on.

“Sleep well, milady.” He murmured, retracting his hand with a fond smile. “Until tomorrow.” 

He didn’t stay long enough to see the smile cross your lips.


	12. Fainting During Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it isn't all that bad that you pass out in front of the gods and everybody.

It was unlike you to be faint, no matter the situation. You were the strongest in the army, aside from himself. He respected you for that, and held you in high regard, despite his suspicions. You were something like a favorite in his eyes, the way you worked with such fervor and power (not that he spoke to you long enough to even mention it).

“All right, you have done well, everyone! You completed your sparring with poise and strength.” He complimented the dozens of warriors, “Except for those who lost your matches. You’re all to give me 300 push-ups, starting now! As for the winners, you earned a short break. Water, sitting down, and so forth. Be back in place within the next ten minutes!”

“See you on the other side, Sully.” You grinned at your partner, who threatened to knock your legs out from under you if you didn’t leave. You laughed, a sound like bells in Frederick’s ears. “Fat chance. You couldn’t even land a blow on me when we were fighting. What makes you think you can…just… U-ugh…”

Then you collapsed to the ground.

It startled everyone at first, when your legs completely gave out. A few of them laughed, thinking you were playing some sort of joke on them.

“Watch it, idiot! You almost fell on top of me!” Sully swatted your arm, leaving a mark that was sure to sting, and likely revenge for beating her in the spar. Frederick’s lack of amusement deteriorated further when you remained on the ground, not even acknowledging the mirth of your friends.

“While I did condone sitting down, I meant you should do it elsewhere, as in away from those carrying out their punishment.” He scolded you, his cold tone making everyone fall quiet. It was when you still didn’t move, annoyance set in. “Robin, you are to acknowledge me when I speak to you.”

Nothing. At this point, his patience was wearing thin.

“Robin-”

“-Hey, is it just me, or is Robin not breathing…?” Ricken asked, looking at you from his push-up spot. His comment sent rumblings through the trainees, and Frederick was quick to investigate. He strode over and knelt beside you, shaking your shoulder.

“Robin? Wake up, this is no time for games.”

Your face was pale as a ghost, and the pained expression on your face didn’t sit well with him. Pressing his fingers to your wrist, he found your heart was pounding.

“She’s unconscious.” He stated, the words sounding foreign in his mouth.

“Oh, gods, this ain’t a game.” Sully gasped, shooting up from her spot. “Get a healer!! Robin’s unconscious!!” She shouted at the non-training soldiers, who immediately scattered the second she did. “Frederick, get her to the healing tent, now! Gods know what’s wrong with her!”

Frederick scooped you up in his arms without a second thought. He sprinted for the healing tent, taking care not to jostle you by pressing you against his chest. He hardly broke a sweat rushing you to the tent, but the flurry of concern and anxiety was what set him on edge.

“Set her over there, on the cot.” Libra ordered him without so much as looking up. He carried an armful of staves over to you, and helped Frederick settle you against the meager bedding. His hands were all over you then, searching for the cause of your passing out.

“Maribelle, I need herbs.” He said to the noblewoman when she came to his side. She and Lissa were on the case, getting hold of endless herbal remedies meant to help someone come around. “There’s no evidence of hexing, anywhere, and no illnesses strike me.”

“Poison, then?” Frederick guessed, dreadfully so. The very idea shook him to the core; poison was almost always fatal, and where would the army be if they lost their only tactician? And the best one, at that? He pursed his lips, a million concerns whirring in his mind.

“No, thank the gods, there is no poison. It was not caused by an outside force, either. …Well, save for exhaustion.” Libra added, retracting his touch when Maribelle returned with a host of plants, and Lissa a sprig or two. “She’s been working herself to an inhuman degree, it seems. Her body’s been over-stressed for weeks on end. I’m guessing her training was the tipping point.”

“I wasn’t aware she had been working so hard.” Frederick’s brow furrowed, thinking back through the weeks to find evidence of this “overworking”. Libra only shrugged, taking the mortar and pestle to grind a few roots together.

“Lord Chrom has scolded her on more than one occasion about working too hard. It’s likely she’s simply learned how to conceal it well.” He figured, reasonable as ever.  
Frederick recalled seeing her candle on a little longer than usual, and asking you about it ended with a brief “I’ll be asleep, soon”, and left it at that. Looking back, he realized that happened on more than one occasion, two weeks in a row.

He sighed to himself. “Being the strongest tactician does no one good if she doesn’t treat her body correctly.” He chided you, almost subconsciously. Libra glanced up at him with a curious smile.

“I’m sure she’ll disagree with you, whenever she wakes up.” He mused, taking the powder root and mixing it into a cup of water. “Until then, would you mind staying with her? I’ll need someone to give this to her once she wakes up. I’m afraid I’ve other patients to tend to. Your training has been a little more brutal than expected.”

“Ah, which reminds me; I can’t stay. I’ve more training to complete, and there’s no one leading the exercises this morning-”

“-Will you just relax and do as Libra tells you?” Maribelle interrupted him, “We’ve already plenty of work to do thanks to your insane training. Try and be sympathetic to your poor pupils, why don’t you?”

“But…” Frederick’s argument was lost when Maribelle stormed off, Lissa hot on her trail (after giggling nervously at Frederick’s awkward situation). He huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose when he was left alone. “Perhaps I should consider lightening the training regimen, if this is where it gets me.”

His hand fell into his lap again, and he sat in silence beside your bed. He stole a glance at you every now and again, wondering what in the world he was supposed to do. Sit and wait til you came to? Doing nothing, just…waiting? Frederick shook his head, staring at the ceiling of the tent.

_‘You’d best wake up soon.’_ He thought to himself with a worried frown, _‘For our sakes, and the army’s. Gods know how much progress we’re losing if there’s no training being done… Though your health is certainly more important than training. More than anything, really.’_

His eyes returned to your unmoving body. _‘So, you should wake up, very soon.’_

* * *

Fortunately for you, “very soon” didn’t happen for another seven hours. You awoke with a grimace and a stir, nose scrunched as you tried to gather your bearings. You didn’t remember getting in your bedroll, though this wasn’t even yours. It wasn’t your tent, either, in fact you had no idea where you were.

At first you were confused, which then transformed into terror when you realized Frederick was sitting next to you, fiddling with something in his hands. You almost shrieked in surprise, had your voice not been missing.

“F-Frederick…?” You rasped, narrowing your eyes in an attempt to look at him. Said lieutenant raised an eyebrow, not looking up from his little project. “W-where am I?”

“The healing tent.” He stated simply enough, the fiddling coming to a pause. “You fainted after sparring with Sully, collapsing on the ground. A few thought you might have died.”

“Oh, gods.” You groaned, pressing a hand to your head. “Did everyone…did they see?”

“You passed out right beside Sully. So, yes, I would wager everyone saw.” He confirmed, making you groan even louder. “Don’t strain yourself; Libra informed me that you’ve been overworking yourself to an unreasonable degree, and you’ve done your body a great disservice. You could have injured yourself terribly, Robin.”

“That’s true…” You mumbled, slowly pushing yourself up on the bed. His project was set aside when you moved, and he handed you a small cup that was filled with some oddly colored water.

“Drink this; it’ll help ease the pain.” He told you, making sure you had a handle on the cup before returning to his work. “You should inform me when you’re feeling unwell, tactician. If you’re not fit to train, imagine what it’d be like if you were in battle. You’d have your head lopped off before you engaged a single soldier.”

“I know.” You grumbled, taking a swig of the water, which you noted was bitter. “I was just trying to finish solving an issue with the routes Chrom chose… He’s not great at mapping out roads. Though I’ve no idea what goes where, so…I was up studying a little late.”

“For two weeks?”

“…It’s a lot harder than you think.” You smiled sheepishly, and Frederick sighed for the third time that day. He looked at you very seriously. You wanted to shrink under his gaze.

“That may be so, but you cannot sacrifice your health for the sake of avoiding a few bumps in the war path. Your body comes before everything else, and I’d much rather take on a hoard of bandits along the road before seeing you collapse in training, again. We didn’t know what to think.”

“I’m sorry, Sir Frederick.” You apologized, looking down at the cup. “I didn’t mean to worry you… But I do appreciate the thought. It means a lot to me you’re willing to stay here, too, even if it’s to scold me for being foolish.”

“Yes, well,” Frederick cleared his throat, “Libra needed someone to watch over you while he worked with other patients. Apparently I was the only one available.”

“I appreciate it all the same.” You chuckled, the sound tired and weaker than he liked. He didn’t look at you, instead focused on the scarf he knitted in his lap. “I know we don’t get to speak that often…but I’m glad you did, anyway. So, thank you.”

He nearly tore a hole in the scarf when you thanked him, snapping his eyes up to meet yours. You smiled at him, groggy but sweet, and for a second the tent was warmer.

“I am merely fulfilling my duty as a knight. There is no need to thank me.” He responded politely, though he did glare at you when you laughed again. “Be sure to keep that in mind the next time you want to stay up all night reading about dirt roads.”

“Sir, yes sir.” You replied with a smile, leaning back against the small pillows and watching him work. Frederick meant to return to training after you woke up, however he found himself sucked into a conversation about his knitting, you asking countless questions, completely engrossed in his talent. The conversation then transitioned to fire, and Frederick wondered why he hadn’t spoken with you before.

He put a little extra effort into striking up conversation afterwards.


	13. Playing a Kidnapping Cool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the woman of your dreams is kidnapped but your relationship is still a secret, it takes a Frederick level of skill to conceal just how freaked out you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fredrobin shall continue until morale improves

It was the dead of night. You were halfway to helping Frederick put out the last of the camp’s fires. Then there was a strange-smelling cloth over your mouth, and the world went black.

The lieutenant thought little of your absence at first, until you failed to show. He decided to look around for you, realizing very quickly you were nowhere to be found.

Quite literally, he couldn’t have alerted the camp any faster. Frederick sprinted to Chrom’s tent, rousing the prince and informing him that-

“Robin has been taken-!”

“What…?” Chrom said, bleary. His brow furrowed, slowly processing what Frederick said. “...What?!”

“She is nowhere around the camp, milord. I searched everywhere after she failed to show up and assist me with putting out the fires. I have ample reason to believe that she has been taken. We need to assemble a search party immediately.”

Frederick spoke in such a rushed tone, Chrom had a hard time following him in his sleepy state. Nevertheless, he hurried to dress, calling all the Shepherds and informing them of the situation as best he could. 

It didn’t take long for everyone to start freaking out. Weapons were gathered and armor quickly snapped on, the intellectuals plotting out the nearby lands in search of a possible location for the kidnappers.

“It’s highly likely she was taken to one of the abandoned forts near the area...Plegia is filled with them since we’ve begun to make notable headway.” Miriel pointed out, frowning deeply as she studied the map. “There are a number of them close by, but it would be unlikely they could have gotten much further than a few miles from here.”

“I see...what do you suggest, then? Splitting teams up and sending them to various locations?” Chrom asked, considering that was the best plan he had. Miriel grunted, adjusting her glasses. 

“Perhaps if we send scouts overhead with every team. They must be balanced, equipped with healers as well, should they stumble upon Robin and find her in need of medical attention.”

“Which is the most likely location they would have taken her?” Frederick suddenly spoke up, from his place pacing across from the map. “I wish to be assigned to the group tasked with searching the most likely location.”

“If my calculations are correct...it should be the fort to the southeast.” She concluded. Frederick nodded curtly, before continuing his pace. Chrom watched him for a moment, noticing just how tense the knight had become.

“Are you feeling all right, Frederick? I haven’t seen you this worked up, before.” Chrom commented, concerned for his steadfast knight. Frederick paused, his back to the prince in his efforts to maintain his composure.

“We have never lost our prized tactician before, milord.” He answered slowly. “The sole reason we have come this far in the war has been taken from...us. We must do everything in our power to bring her back.” 

“You’re right.” Chrom agreed, though he couldn’t help but feel like Frederick’s reaction was strange. You were his best friend, yet even he didn’t feel quite as concerned as Frederick. You were a strong woman, after all. He was positive you’d be found and you’d make it out all right.

“We should make haste, then. With your permission, milord, we should dispatch immediately.”

“Permission granted.” Chrom said as he rose, and began the necessary actions to dispatch the Shepherds. Teams were divided quickly, with Chrom, Frederick and Lissa all heading for the southeastern fort. Miriel and Sumia joined as well, the princess-elect acting as the scout ahead while everyone hurried out.

As soon as everyone dispersed, it was go time. Frederick was lasered into finding you. And he would, gods dammit, or die trying. He was already berating himself for allowing you to be kidnapped, especially under his watch. 

If he actually lost you...he could feel his heart crumbling in his chest. 

“The fort’s within sight!” Sumia called from above, several minutes into the ride. Frederick’s gaze hardened, an expression matched by the team. They were going to rescue you, and they were going to do it quickly.

“Any sign of Robin?”

“Not that I can tell!” Sumia replied to Chrom’s call, her eyes narrowing. “But it looks like there’s something’s going on- I see a lot of magic activity!”

“Torture?” Frederick guessed, teeth grit at the thought. “Gods, they’ve taken her and are interrogating her for secrets- they’re trying to break her! We have to move!!” He jumped to the conclusion, spurring Hebert forward.

“Frederick, wait!!” Chrom called after him, pushing his own steed forward and nearly knocking Lissa off in the process. Frederick sped ahead, axe at the ready and already swinging. 

The front gate was chopped to bits in seconds. Miriel fired a blast through the splintered door, allowing for a perfect charge forward.

“Damn him-” Chrom cursed, Falchion blazing as they bolstered through the brigands. There were dozens of men screaming bloody murder, unprepared for the sudden assault. Those who were too close to Frederick were very quickly silenced.

“Where did you see the magic?!” Frederick demanded from Sumia, who gracefully dispatched her opponents. 

“In the upper level!! I-it was in the west wing!” She called to him. Frederick yanked his steed around, making an immediate push for where you would be.

“Princess Lissa, come with me quickly!!” He demanded, riding past Chrom and taking Lissa onto his horse in a single fluid movement. Chrom barely blinked, and his sister was gone.

“W-whoa!” She yelped, holding on for dear life. Frederick hadn’t any time to lose, though. He couldn’t afford to. The ring in his pocket demanded it be so. “Frederick, slow down!!”

“Forgive me milady, but I haven’t a moment to lose! We must rescue Rob- the tactician!! We don’t know what we’re facing, so we must make haste-” 

He was met with an unexpected war being waged in the west wing.

An explosion of electricity, with you at its epicenter. Countless brigands lied in your wake as you fried them to bits. Frederick and Lissa gawked at your power. It seemed his fanatical training did you some good, after all.

“R-Robin?” Lissa was the first to speak up, her voice naught but a squeak as your Thoron ran out of juice. You started at her, eyes wild and unfocused. 

Your hair was askew, you had blood trickling down your forehead and properly sealing your eye shut, body littered in bruises and cuts as your coat and clothes were torn and tattered. The chain around your ankle was what angered Frederick the most, though. 

“Lissa? Frederick?” You panted, breathing heavily from exhaustion. They dismounted swiftly, coming to your side. You barely took a step forward before your legs gave out, sending you to the ground. 

“Robin-!” Frederick lurched towards you and scooped you up in the nick of time, cradling you to his chest. You looked up at him with a tired smile, albeit sheepish.

“Forgive me...it seems I got a little carried away.” You told him with a weak laugh. Frederick grimaced, motioning Lissa over as he pulled out his kerchief, dabbing at the blood coating your face.

“I’m glad to see you’re capable of holding your own.” Frederick responded in a much softer voice than his coarse, battle cries had been seconds earlier. “I was worried.”

“Yes, well...it’s safe to say all those hours of brutal fanatical fitness paid off.” Your tone was even weaker than your laughter. Frederick’s eyes flicked to Lissa, who was already yanking out her Mend and tending to your wounds.

“Don’t you worry, Robin. You did a great job! I can’t believe you managed to take all these soldiers out by yourself!”

“When you’re in the hands of the enemy, you can’t count on being saved.” You said with a small shrug, relaxing in Frederick’s arms. “I didn’t doubt you’d find me, though.”

“It’s important to be able to stand alone.” Frederick agreed, shifting you gently so Lissa could access your wounds better. “It only goes to show how truly admirable your strength has become.”

“And I wonder who I have to thank for it.” You looked up at him with a knowing smile, which didn’t pass Lissa’s gaze. Of course, there was very little to go unnoticed the way Frederick seemed to forget she was even in the room.

“To think I was so terribly worried for your sake.” He murmured, squeezing you tight. “It seems it was all for naught. ...You did well, my sweet.”

You laughed nervously, your cheeks turning a bright pink. Lissa choked.

“‘My sweet’??” She gaped at him, bringing both yours and his attention back to the third party. His face exploded in a red blush, nearly dropping you in his attempt to maintain his dignity.

“D-did I say that? Oh, dear- it must have been a slip of the tongue. I meant to say, er...elite! As in, my elite friend? Because she’s so strong…?” 

“You can’t fool me, Frederick!! You two are in love, aren’t you? That’s why you were freaking out, before!!”

“I-I did no such thing- it’s perfectly normal to be worried for our tactician’s wellbeing!”

“You were freaking out?” You questioned with a quirked brow, making his embarrassment even worse. Frederick groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“This is not how I intended this evening to go in the slightest, you know.” He grumbled, “We can talk about this later, Princess Lissa, but for now I think it best to heal Robin’s wounds as best we can and bring her back to camp safely. And I would like to ask you keep our relationship secret, until we decide when to announce it formally.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. It’s kind of clear that you two have a thing for each other. This just confirmed it! And in a juicier way than I thought.” She added with a cheeky giggle, avoiding his icy glare by focusing on your wounds. You snorted, placing a hand over Frederick’s.

“Perhaps it’s for the best she found out...I don’t think we could’ve hidden it much longer, anyways. You have been becoming more affectionate towards me in public, you know.”

“There’s a reason for that- but you needn’t involve yourself with all this teasing either, you know.” He chided you, his scolding making you finally shut your mouth with a snicker. 

The moment you returned to camp safe and sound, Frederick did make it known to you just why he’d become worse at hiding his feelings.

And you were more than happy to accept the reason, watching him slip the ring onto your finger once you were well enough to actually walk out of the healing tent on your own.

Which, of course, everyone saw coming (except for Chrom).


	14. Working Through the Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much to Frederick's chagrin, you're always finding ways to sneak out in the name of productivity.

Frederick had only left you alone for a few moments. Thirty seconds, tops; he’d learned that he needed to be quick if he didn’t want you to get out of bed and escape from your resting.

You had fallen ill, and Libra had confined you to bed instead of allowing you even a little bit of space to be productive. You were to rest and relax until your fever broke, and you could make it through a full night of sleep.

Frederick’s mission was to make sure that was what you did. Instead, you decided to fight the doctor’s orders every second you had and fought tooth and nail to get out of bed.

It had become a very trying game of cat and mouse, one that Frederick was becoming more and more frustrated with. So he sprinted from the bedroom to the kitchen, emptied the bucket of water to replace it with cooler water, and then sprinted back. He wasn’t sure if he should be surprised you snuck out in that tiny window of time.

“Robin?” He called your name, looking around the bedroom in case you were trying to hide and trick him like the fifth time you escaped. Not seeing you anywhere, he set the bucket down and started for the hall. Sure enough, the door to your quarters was wide open, and you had headed off into the castle.

Frederick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gods slay me, why must she be so stubborn?”

He strode down the hall, asking every other maid or servant if they’d seen his wife. To his chagrin, you seemed to have avoided them all. He quickened his pace. You couldn’t have covered that much distance in the span of thirty seconds.

“Robin!” He called you again, making a beeline for your office. That was where all your things were, after all. Even if he didn’t find you on the way, he’d be sure to intercept you before you reached your target.

“Uh-oh. Did she escape, again?” Lissa’s voice caught his attention as he turned the corner, closing in on your office. He turned and bowed politely to the princess, his expression as serious as ever.

“Unfortunately yes, milady. You didn’t happen to see her on her way, did you?”

“I thought I saw a suspicious person creeping around the back halls, but I didn’t think anything of it. Lon’qu told me I was seeing things.” Lissa said with a shrug, but a knowing twinkle in her eyes.

“Lon’qu isn’t aware of the current situation.” Frederick replied and bowed once more, before he darted off to your office. 

Lissa shook her head, watching him race to your rescue with a silly grin. “Poor Fred. He goes through so much to take care of Robin. They’re both so stubborn, though...I guess that’s why they’re so perfect for each other.” She laughed to herself, before carrying on her way.

She had no idea how right she was, though.

Frederick spotted you just as you reached the door, your hand slipping into your coat pocket and pulling out the key to the office that he’d locked. Frederick clicked his tongue, hurrying forward and closing the distance.

The first thing you noticed wasn’t the large man barreling towards you, but the fact that all your documents were missing.

“Huh…?” You blinked, trying to get your blurred vision to at least attempt to focus. “W-where did all the ordinances go?”

“I hid them.” You would’ve normally jumped at Frederick’s voice surprising you, however your fever had you sluggish. It took a minute to realize he was towering over you, turning to find an impatient frown. “So you wouldn’t be able to work and get some rest, instead.”

You frowned right back, hands on your hips. “Y-you know full well that I can’t just up and rest. I have work to do, Frederick, and I have to get it done! I’m not going to stand here and argue over the obvious!”

“My thoughts exactly.” He replied, and before you could even blink you were hoisted off the ground and in his arms. “Which is precisely why you will not be working, and you will return to bed.”

You channeled whatever strength you had left into your anger, grasping the tie around his neck and tugging his head down to grab his attention. 

“Frederick, I’m going to work whether you like it or not! N-now put me down-!”

His response was not one of understanding or release, but of tightening his grip and staring you right back down.

“You are ill and you are going to rest whether YOU like it or not. And I’m going to make sure you recover, or I’ll die trying. Now we’re getting you back to bed, understand?”

His tone was so loud and commanding, you had no choice but to comply. Not to mention it wasn’t making your pounding headache any better. All you could do was look away in defeat, your hands falling into your lap as you surrendered to his overpowering authority.

Neither of you spoke a word the entire walk back to your quarters, even after he set you down on the bed, took the cloth you’d dropped on the floor and refreshed it, placing it on your forehead.

He tucked you in wordlessly, ensuring you weren’t going to move a muscle. You didn’t spare him a second glance, turning on your side and giving him the cold shoulder.

Frederick knew he shouldn’t feel bad, especially not since you were being childish and sulking. But it wasn’t any fun to scold you, much less reprimand you in a public place, where he knew you’d be embarrassed.

Since you’d come home, he never wanted to fight with you ever again, anyways. Gods, curse him for being so stubborn. Curse YOU for being just as stubborn as he was.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked out of the bedroom. He glanced back, finding you as silent and still as ever. With a frown, he closed the door behind him.

Then he took to the living area, and began to tidy up; all while watching the door to make sure you didn’t try to make a hasty escape.

* * *

You fell asleep at some point, in the middle of your brooding. You only knew this because you woke to the sound of water being squeezed from a cloth, feeling the gentle touch of Frederick wiping away the sweat on your face.

Your eyes slid open slowly, watching him clean you up. At first, you thought he didn’t notice you. Then you realized he was ignoring your gaze.

You looked away, feeling more hurt than before you knocked out. This man had the audacity to argue with you in front of the gods and everyone, to pick you up and carry you off without your consent, and then act like he was the one mad at you?

Like you were in the wrong?

You fought hard to pretend he wasn’t so carefully wiping your face, caring for you so tenderly. His actions didn’t match up with his words, it seemed.

“...How are you feeling?”

You turned away. Frederick sighed, pulling back. He placed the cloth back in the bucket, preparing to leave you alone.

“...It’s not fair.”

He paused in the doorway, hearing your grumble. He turned to look at you, finding your eyes still stuck to the wall. 

“Come again?”

You huffed, looking back at your husband with a frustrated pout. “You can just pluck me off the ground and carry me wherever you want when I’m sick. But when you’re sick I can’t even convince you to stop...i-it’s just wrong.”

“Well…” Frederick started slowly, coming back to the bed and sitting beside you, “I suppose that could be considered unfair. But you should understand that our duties are severely different, as are our conditions. I very rarely fall ill, as do you. However, whenever you get sick it always seems to affect you more.”

“T-that doesn’t mean you just get to...get to tote me around wherever and whenever you want. It’s degrading and e-embarrassing.”

“You left me with little other choice, Robin. You need rest. This isn’t just a bout of the cold or something you can kick in a day. You’ve been sick like this for nearly a week.” He argued gently, reaching out and brushing the hair from your face. “And you didn’t leave me much choice but to carry you back.”

“You could’ve escorted me.”

“You would’ve run away, again.” He countered, and you knew he was right. Frederick exhaled softly, his hand stroking your cheek. “I am terribly worried about you, Robin. You’ve no idea how frightening it is to see you so sick you can barely stand one moment, and gone the next. Forgive me if I wish to keep you safe, and resting as you should be.”

“...It’s s-still unfair.” You grumbled, despite the flush on your cheeks being caused by far more than your fever. Frederick chuckled softly, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Forgive me. I suppose I did use my strength as an unfair advantage. I will do my best to avoid doing so in the future, if you can promise me you’ll attempt to be a little more diplomatic in the future.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” He bent down, so that he laid beside you, “You tend to be rather stubborn when you’re focused on disobeying orders.”

“You say that like you aren’t.”

“Touche.” He laughed again, bringing your hand to his cheek. “I promise I won’t be forceful, and I will do my very best to not be stubborn in the future.”

“Hmph.” You grunted, watching his fond smile grow wider. That beautiful little grin was always so infectious, you grumbled to yourself. “...Fine. I promise to be less stubborn, too.”

“Thank you, my darling.” He murmured, his lips touching your forehead. “Mm...you’re still quite warm. Should I get a fresh cloth for you?”

“No…” You yawned, reaching over and grasping his vest, resting your head against his shoulder. “You can just stay here with me for a little while. I-if you don’t mind, that is.”

“I suppose I do still have a few things to make up to you, don’t I?” He mused, shifting so that his arm curled around your waist, gingerly bringing your head to rest on his chest. “I’d be more than happy to help. I’ve a few spare moments.”

“Yes, yes you do.” You agreed, “If I’m to suffer in unproductivity, so do you.”

“I feel like I should be protesting that…”

“No, you should be snuggling with me and making me feel better.” You shook your head against him with a lazy grin, feeling groggy again. Frederick stroked your hair while you drifted off, watching over you while you slept.

Although you still put up a bit of a fight every now and then when you got sick, Frederick was relieved to see you’d eased up on the stubbornness a little bit. And he did his best to hold up his end of the bargain, even if he caught something a bit worse than a cold and tried to convince you that he had to do his duties, he tried.

...A little.


	15. Critical Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick takes a critical blow.

He didn’t know how it happened. He’d always been so careful. Even more so since it was realized just how powerful the Valmese were.

A strength he’d been reminded of when the lance shattered the chink in his armor, and pierced his side. His eyes grew wide, choking on the blood in his throat as he sank down the tree trunk. The Valmese soldier sneered, leaving him to die.

Frederick couldn’t breathe. His hand pressed to the wound, blood spilling out from between his fingers. It was as deep as it was painful, and he was alone. His last vulnerary had been given to you, who he insisted needed it more than he did.

If only he’d known.

“Gods…” He panted, breaths short and choppy. Frederick’s vision was spotty, flickering between red and black. He blinked rapidly, teeth grit in pain.

This was it, wasn’t it?

He would die alone on the battlefield. Frederick winced, the wound throbbing. You had split away from him promising that you’d come back in an instant. You had promised you’d come back.

Frederick leaned back, staring at the fading sky. He was dying, and yet, all he could think about was you. Why hadn’t you come back?

You hadn’t been hurt too, had you?

“I...shouldn’t have left you alone.” He spoke hoarsely, and for a second, he found himself smiling. You would be saying the exact same thing to him if you were in the same situation.

His beautiful wife. 

“...I wish I could see you one last time.” He sighed shakily, feeling the tears blur his vision worse than the pain. “A-at least...to know you’re safe…”

There was so much he wanted to say. There was still so much you hadn’t been able to do, so much time you hadn’t spent together. Two years wasn’t enough to reciprocate all the love you showed him. He wanted to grow old with you.

Have the family you always talked about. 

A solitary tear slipped from his cheek, his eyes sliding closed against the numbing pain. His hand slackened over the wound, his grip weakening.

He couldn’t feel anything, anymore. Nothing but regret, but longing, but sorrow. This was how it would end. It was all too soon.

He wasn’t the only one to think that.

“FREDERICK!!”

Your shout echoed across the emptied battlefield, the sound of several footfalls distant in his ears. Your eyes were wide with horror, face pale as you sprinted to the slumped captain of the guard. He couldn’t even lift his head to look at you, he was so weak.

“Oh, my gods- oh gods, oh gods-!” You sounded so frantic, so utterly terrified. Your hands came to his cheeks, lifting his head and drawing his blurry vision to your eyes. “Frederick, darling, look at me- look at me, I’m right here! W-where’s the wound? Where is it?”

“Robin…” His voice was raw and coarse, but he held a fraction of a smile on his lips, nonetheless. Perhaps the gods weren’t so cruel, after all. He’d been granted one last moment with his precious wife. 

“I’m here, Frederick. I’m here. Gods, damn me- I shouldn’t have left you alone, I...no, no there’s no time for that.” You stopped yourself, pulling away from him to search for the wound. It wasn’t hard to find the gaping hole in his armor, taking his hand that limply pressed to his side to look at the wound. It was raw, still bleeding, and likely to be infected if it wasn’t taken care of.

“Lissa? Can you do anything about this?” He heard you ask, and he lazily looked past you, unaware that others had joined you.

The familiar blonde pigtails of the princess came into his line of sight, followed by two pairs of worried blue eyes. Chrom seemed to have joined you, as well.

“I-I can, but we have to get the bleeding to slow down, first! Trying to heal him while he’s like this would be dangerous, especially if we tried to move him!”

“Got it,” You rose up, cutting away the bottom of your coat and rolling the cloth up. Frederick would have reprimanded you for damaging your few belongings so haphazardly, but he could hardly even speak at this point.

All he could do was watch as you pressed the wadded cloth to his wound, feeling little more than a spark when your touch found his skin. 

“Don’t worry, Frederick. We’ll get you back to camp and healed up in no time. Try to stay with us until then, got it? That’s an order, by the way.” He heard Chrom’s strained jest, and he managed something between a grimace and a smile. He felt your hand touch his cheek again, the motion pulling him back to you.

“Stay with me, love. I promise, I’ll never separate us again so long as you stay with me.” You told him. He thought he saw some tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, but he couldn’t be certain.

Instead he nodded, feeling the relief of his wounds being mended as your gentle reassurances eased him into unconsciousness. However, he felt peaceful. Not because he knew this was the last time he would fall asleep, but because he knew he’d wake up again.

* * *

You refused to leave Frederick’s side since the moment you brought him to the healing tent. Even after Libra and Maribelle both assured you he’d be fine, you told them you weren’t going anywhere. Granted, it had been two days since the two of you made it here, but you certainly weren’t budging anytime soon.

You were a woman of your word; your husband had been alone and nearly died when you weren’t there. You weren’t foolish enough to up and leave him, again.

Your hand had taken permanent residence with his, your fingers gently running over his far bigger hand as you waited for him to wake.

You had tried to distract yourself from worrying, yet you never seemed to be able to focus on anything but his face. Waiting for the moment his eyes would open, again.

His chest rose and fell at a steady, slow pace, his expression devoid of any pain despite the rather large wound that had his whole midsection wrapped up. 

All you could do was wait for him to open his eyes. You sighed, carding your hand through his hair. “Please wake up soon, Frederick...I’ve got no idea what I’m supposed to do without you. Especially after you scared me half to death.”

You smiled to yourself despite the gravity of the situation. You were strong and capable, just like he was. When you were paired together you were practically invincible on the battlefield. You put so much trust in each other, being separated didn’t phase you one bit.

You never could’ve imagined Frederick being overpowered by anyone (except for you, on the odd occasion). Your hand fell to his cheek, your thumb tenderly ghosting over the dark bags below his eye. Perhaps he had been too tired, and he had left himself open.

The stress of running into another war headfirst had troubled him greatly, after all. Though you knew he was never one to miss out on sleep. You frowned deeply, knowing you’d only find your explanation when he awoke. Assuming he had one, that is.

Thankfully, it wasn’t much longer before you found out.

It was the one time you left the tent to get some lunch for yourself when Maribelle burst into the mess hall, calling for you. Frederick had finally woken up.

You dropped the bowl without a second thought, and then you were running. You sprinted across camp, leaving Maribelle in the dust. The healing tent was shoved open and you locked eyes with Frederick, who was sitting up and looking much better than he had in days.

“Ah, there you are.” Libra, who had sat beside him to check his wound, “We were just talking about you. Your husband was inquiring of your health.”

You didn’t notice the tears slipping from your eyes as you strode up to him, closing the distance between you as Libra gracefully escaped to give you some privacy.

Your hands curled into shaking fists, your lips curled into a sneer as you tried desperately to keep the sobs from pouring out.

“Y-you’ve been out for days with this hole in your side and the first thing you ask about is me?” You barely got the words out before you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into your embrace. “D-do you have any idea how worried I was about you??”

He gave a weak chuckle, “When I was bleeding out on the ground...all I could think about was you.”

Your heart lurched at his words, burying your face in his neck. Your hands slid into his hair and down his back, shaking your head against him. 

“Honestly...w-why can’t you worry about yourself, for once? I-I thought for sure I’d lost you. When I came to you and you were barely breathing, I thought...I thought I really…”

Frederick felt your body trembling around him, a sad smile on his lips. His hands gingerly came to your shoulders, pulling you back so he could look at you properly. His vision no longer blurred, he could perfectly see the torment on your face, the guilt and the relief that struggled to show themselves.

Calloused fingers brushed against your cheek, wiping away the hot tears that fell endlessly. “Forgive me, my sweet. It was my fault for underestimating our enemies. Had I known they were so skilled, I never would have left your side. There is nothing in this world that hurts me more than seeing you cry.”

“N-nothing hurts me worse than...seeing you hurt.” You retaliated, covering the hand on your cheek with your own, leaning into his palm. You peeked up at him, finding a warm smile on his lips you wished you could reciprocate. 

“Promise me, then, that you’ll never separate us in battle.” He replied in a soft voice, turning his hand so that it caught yours, squeezing it gently. “For my sake, and yours.”

“Trust me,” You sniffed, threading your fingers with his, “I’ll never let this happen, again. But you- you have to promise me something, too.”

“Anything.”

“Promise you won’t leave me. Promise you’ll never leave my side- I’ll do all I can to keep you here with me.”

He nodded solemnly, his eyes filled with promise and passion. “I will stay close. I will never do anything that will make you sad. Never again.”

Your lips tentatively pressed against his, curling your arms around his neck once more and holding him in a tender embrace. Frederick closed his eyes when you broke apart, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You held each other for a while after that, and you certainly did hold true to your promise. Even against Frederick’s wishes that you at least go to sleep on a proper cot instead of sitting next to him in the chair.

Though you easily remedied that by slipping into bed with him while he healed (much to Maribelle’s mortification).


	16. Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've had enough of being neglected, and you're going to say something about it. Whether you're tactful or not, though, is the question.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Frederick went missing. You were almost always alone, your husband having other things to do. It was nearly impossible to be with him.

You hated it. Feeling isolated without any memories to lean on, there were few things you enjoyed more than being surrounded by people you cared about. Eventually, people turned into the single person you could rely on more than anyone.

But ever since Plegia was defeated, and you’d come to live in Ylisstol, things were different. Rather, they returned to normal.

Normal meant Frederick barely spent time in his quarters. Considering you did most of your work in the sanctity of your new home, you rarely had to leave. That meant the times you found each other were few and far between.

You sighed, staring out the window. After waking alone, eating alone and getting ready all by your lonesome, it was clear that all you could think about was your husband.

Gods, you’d barely touched each other since the marriage was consummated nearly two months ago. You thought couples were passionate and enamored with each other when the marriage was young, but that was nowhere to be found.

You pushed the regulations Chrom gave you away. You couldn’t review them, especially not when all your thoughts were consumed with your husband. You smiled bitterly; Frederick was all you could think about, yet he wasn’t there. 

This just wouldn’t do, anymore. The frustration was eating you alive. You had to see him. You would find your husband, and you would talk this out. You were both busy people, but you had to break through to him.

If only you didn’t have to walk halfway across a castle to do it.

You almost gave up twenty minutes into your search, before you caught him out of the corner of your eye, his hands full with a crate of lances freshly delivered to the castle guard.

“Frederick!” Your call didn’t stop him, but he at least saw you. He watched as you hurried to him, greeting you with a curt nod and polite smile.

“Robin, what brings you here? I don’t believe I’ve run into you during our daily duties.”

“That’s probably because you’re everywhere else around the castle while I’m cooped up in a council or my office.” You replied casually, “What are you up to?”

“On my way to store these lances away. We received quite a large shipment, so it is important to have them taken care of quickly.”

An opportunity, you thought, a glimmer in your eye. “Perhaps I could be of assistance, then?”

“You?” He quirked an eyebrow as you reached the storeroom. “That won’t be necessary, milady. I’ve plenty of young recruits that could use the work.”

“Oh.” You frowned some, but shrugged it off. “I suppose that makes sense. Is there anything else I could help with, then?”

“I don’t think so.” He said, deftly placing lances in their rack, “I’ve many appointments with various generals today, and I must tend to milord...I will also lead training and handling general maintenance in the castle, as well as patrols before the night comes. I’m capable of handling these things, myself, as I always have.”

“I know you’re capable of handling them,” You started carefully, “But, wouldn’t it be nice if I could help you? It sounds like you aren’t able to take time between those duties to relax, so...why not allow me to come along?”

Frederick disagreed. “I don’t believe it is a good idea for you to ignore your own duties for the sake of tagging along.”

“I wouldn’t be ignoring my duties! I get plenty of things done throughout the day.” You protested, perhaps more indignant than intended. Quietly, you muttered, “...Perhaps you would notice if you were actually around.”

Your added remark had meant to go unheard, but oh, it was heard. Frederick paused, hands wrapped around a lance as he turned to look at you. His brow furrowed, looking quite serious.

“What do you mean by that, exactly?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I mean what I said; you’re never around, Frederick. Ever since the war ended, you’ve been gone. I barely see you in our quarters, and when I do, it’s naught but for a fleeting moment!”

“You are aware that I am the captain of the guard, yes? I have several obligations I must attend to. My occupation doesn’t exactly allow free time.” Frederick reminded you, much to your frustration.

“I am perfectly aware, Frederick. Every morning I wake alone, I’m reminded of it. You are aware that you have a wife, yes? That you you have ‘obligations’ to your spouse, too?”

“Of course I do.” He argued, facing you head on. “But my loyalty has been pledged to the Exalt and this country; they will always come before my personal life. It is something that cannot change.”

You watched him for a moment, eyes narrowed. You could see the tension building in his posture, just as it had in yours. Was he really that dense? Could he not see how much you needed him?

“Except it’s not just your life anymore. It’s our life! We’re married, and that means you have to spend time with the person you love. You can’t just brush them aside and shove them into the tiniest slot on your overstuffed schedule!”

Frederick’s jaw clenched, growing agitated. “You are overreacting. What you are disputing is a carefully crafted schedule that needn’t be altered since I became a knight. It makes no sense to change something you shouldn’t be against in the first place. Or were you unaware of the lifestyle you’d be subjected to when you married me?”

“I’m opposed to this lifestyle because it keeps me out!” You snapped, enraged that he could be so oblivious. “Frederick, is it really so difficult to set aside time to spend with me? Am I really asking too much of you? I mean, at the very least, could I not help you with these endless menial tasks you’re obsessed with doing alone? Surely you don’t have to treat me like a child and ignore my very existence!”

“These endless menial tasks have been apart of my life for several years, and I will not allow you to speak ill of it! And I certainly don’t need you to ‘help’, when we both know you will only distract me as you are, now! If all you wished to accomplish by tracking me down was to criticize me, you needn’t be here any longer. I have wasted enough time as is.”

You were certain he could hear your heart breaking in the silence. Your gaze fell to the floor as every single emotion in your body dropped. You bit your lip, looking anywhere but him.

“...If you honestly think I came here to ‘criticize’ your duties, you must be blind.” You muttered, fighting to hide the wavering in your voice.

“What other explanation is there? You came here to start this foolish argument, and now you think me blind for pointing out your mistake?”

“Mistake-?” You choked, snapping up to look at him. “Dammit Frederick, can’t you see that I miss you?!”

He froze.

You watched him, swallowing thickly, clenching your fists and trying your best to keep your composure. You could feel the tremors coming, but you stood tall.

“...What?”

“I miss you! You’re my husband and I love you but I haven’t been able to spend time with you in weeks because of your stupid job, a-and I know it’s important and I know your whole world revolves around it but gods, I just...I just want to be with you! Can’t you see that?”

You exhaled heavily, your breath shaking as it left your lips. Your composure was out the window. You listened to the heavy silence, shaking your head. 

“Gods… Clearly, you can’t. You think I’m just nagging you, right? For someone so painfully observant, you’re just as dense, sometimes.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, turning away. “I...I think I’ve had enough interaction with you for today. If you’ll excuse me...I’ve got work I shouldn’t be ignoring, anymore.”

And with that, you turned on your heel, leaving Frederick alone. It should’ve at least made you feel better, considering how he’d done the same to you for days on end.

So why did it only make you feel worse?

When you returned to your quarters, you trudged to the bedroom, fell onto your pillow, and sobbed. All you could feel was remorse as you stumbled into a troubled, lonely sleep.

* * *

Frederick couldn’t focus for the life of him. He didn’t know what happened. One moment you were there, walking alongside him, and then you were arguing with each other. Then he hurt you. Then you were gone.

The broken expression you wore was burned into his memory. Every time he tried to think of something else, all he could see was that look.

That awful look that he put on you.

Chrom could very clearly see Frederick’s inner turmoil, from the clouded eyes to the way his every move was etched in guilt. The most attentive person Chrom knew couldn’t even capture his focus for a couple seconds.

“Er...Frederick, are you all right?” He asked as cautiously as he could, giving an awkward smile to the captain when he finally looked his way. “You seem a bit distracted.”

“Do I?” Frederick straightened, bowing his head in apology. “Forgive me, milord. It wasn’t my intention to ignore you.”

“It’s fine. I’m just wondering if you are.” Chrom responded graciously. “I don’t wish to pry, but I’ve never seen you act like this, before. Is something wrong?”

“To be completely honest with you, milord, there is something. However, it is nothing beyond my ability to repair.”

“Are you sure? You seem awfully distracted by it. How serious is this situation?”

“...Gravely.” Frederick replied in a quiet voice, sounding almost defeated. He looked away from the Exalt, hands clenched tight behind his back. Chrom recognized the expression on Frederick’s face. He may or may not have been in a similar situation, himself. 

With a knowing look, Chrom asked, “Is it to do with Robin?”

The shock on Frederick’s face was all the answer he needed. “I...am sorry to say you are correct.”

“I see. I’m guessing you had a disagreement, then. It’s not uncommon for couples to argue, you know. I’m sure it couldn’t be that bad.”

“I am not sure, milord. I...I fear I’ve made a terrible mistake.” Frederick managed, his head lowered in shame. Chrom frowned at his friend. It was almost frightening to see him in such a despondent state.

“Well, I suppose you should remedy the situation as soon as possible, then. If you’ve upset Robin somehow, shouldn’t you be trying to take care of her?”

“I-I know that I should, but...I fear she doesn’t want to see me at all, after what happened.” Frederick said in a defeated tone that hardly suited the headstrong knight.

Chrom shook his head, a hand on Frederick’s shoulder. “If there’s anything I know about Robin, it’s that she’s one of the most forgiving people in the halidom. I’m sure that she’d be more than willing to accept your apology, provided you do give her one.”

Frederick glanced at the ruler, his mouth turned in an unsure frown. “Do you honestly believe that?”

“With all my heart and soul. Robin will forgive you. Especially considering how much she cares about you. I mean, everyone in the castle can see very clearly that Robin adores you. If she ever forgave anyone, it would be you.”

“...I see.” Frederick pursed his lips, eyes lifting from the floor. “Milord, you must excuse me. I believe I have a situation to rectify.”

“By all means.” Chrom gestured for him to go, “Consider yourself absolved of your duties for the rest of the day. Do what you have to, all right?”

“Of course.” Frederick bowed quickly before striding down the corridor, leaving the Exalt to find you, as he should have done hours ago.

* * *

When he came to his quarters, he approached in anxious silence. The door was very carefully opened and shut without a sound, peering into the place with wary eyes.

The place was quiet. Had you not returned home?

Frederick frown softly, looking around for some sign of you. Perhaps you had gone off somewhere to be alone. He could understand why; you were quite upset with him, and rightfully so. Maybe you didn’t want anything to do with him. He wouldn’t.

He carried himself into the bedroom, which allowed his mind to quiet a little. You were there, fast asleep on the bed. He breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders falling from their tight position. 

He came to your side, peering down at you with a warm fondness. You looked so peaceful when you slept. An observation he had made many a time when he came home at some un-gods-ly hour, sneaking a peek at your sweet face. 

The setting sun fell ever slightly, revealing the soft glimmer of tear stains down your cheeks. Immediately his happiness was snuffed out, replaced with that terrible guilt. He had made you cry.

Frederick frowned deeply, lip curled in disgust. To think he had brought those tears on with his foolishness. All you wanted was to be with him, yet he was so wrapped up in himself he couldn’t recognize your pleas for attention. Frederick leaned down, gently shaking your shoulder.

He had to fix this immediately.

“Robin...Robin, wake up.” His voice was soft, trying to wake you with as gentle an urgency he could manage. It took a few tries before you finally stirred, your nose scrunching as you came back to the land of the living. Slowly, your eyes slid open, and you found yourself looking into the face of the man you’d abandoned hours ago.

You turned away, closing your eyes once more.

“...This must be a dream...Frederick would never be home before nightfall.” 

“I’m afraid this is no dream. Though you are right; I do believe my schedule is far more flawed than I’d like to admit.” He replied, to which you grunted.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him coldly, your hoarse voice reminding him the state he’d put you in after that blasted argument. “Don’t you have a dozen other things to be doing?”

“Not anymore. Milord gave me the rest of the day- er, evening- to spend with you.” He explained. You said nothing, which he took as a sign to continue. “To apologize for...what happened, earlier. For what I said.”

“What you said was the truth.” You finally told him, slowly sitting up and brushing his hand from your shoulder. Frederick stepped back, allowing you a little space to yourself. You tucked your hair behind your ear, pretending the wall was far more interesting than he was. “Your job is important. I get that. I shouldn’t have tried to come between you and your life’s work.”

“No, you should have. You were absolutely right in coming between me and my work. It brought to my attention just how badly I’ve hurt you.” He said, his hand coming to your shoulder once more. “How I’ve neglected you, and treated you like nothing more than a common stranger. A travesty in its own right.”

Slowly, you turned to look up at him. The utter remorse in those deep brown eyes certainly surprised you, to say the least.

Frederick sighed, coming to sit on his knees so that he stood a few inches below you on the bed. His hand slipped to yours, resting it atop yours as if you were a delicate flower, and he was afraid he would hurt you with the smallest movement.

“Robin, I must apologize. I have hurt you, deeply, for the sake of nothing more but my pride. It is meaningless, especially when it comes at the cost of your heart. I shouldn’t have attacked you. You are my wife, and I know you have nothing but the best intentions. I was a fool for thinking otherwise.”

“Frederick…” You breathed his name, but he didn’t dare look at you. His gaze remained transfixed on your hand, how you were frozen beneath him. He swallowed thickly, dipping his head beneath your stare.

“I will never be able to forgive myself for treating you the way I have. It was never my intention to ignore you, but it is clear that intentions are meaningless. I was a fool to think I could carry on as I always have, as if you didn’t need me. But you were right; we are married. We need each other. It is our sacred duty to love one another, and I have very clearly failed.”

“Frederick.” You spoke his name again. He shook his head.

“I completely understand if you do not wish to forgive me. I certainly don’t deserve to be. The way I’ve treated you has been abysmal. To think I’d make you long for me despite being so close...to think I couldn’t see your pain with you only minutes away. I...I truly am a despicable man.”

Your lips were drawn in a thin line, listening to his endless deprecation. Your eyes softened, and you leaned down, close to him. Your hand slipped out from beneath his, and for a moment he feared it was your rejection. 

Before he could utter another word your arms slid slowly around his neck, your hand catching your wrist and securing a lazy hold around your husband. He dared to look up at you, finding a contemplative expression.

“Well...you do seem to be quite remorseful.” You observed in a toneless voice, your head tilted softly to the side. “But you know, this wasn’t entirely your fault. I suppose I did a poor job of expressing my feelings to you. I should’ve been more patient with you instead of blowing up like I did. That wasn’t very fair on my part.”

Frederick shrugged, his hands wandering up to rest on your arms. “I’m certain you were only responding to my awful behavior. I was the one who raised my voice, first.”

“You have a point,” You mused, bringing his eyes to yours. He found a twinkle of mirth behind the wetness, doing your best to recover. “But I should have just...I should’ve just told you how I felt from the start. I shouldn’t have been so bitter about your work. I know how important it is, to you.”

“Nothing is more important than you.” Frederick murmured, making your heart skip a beat. His hand touched your cheek, wiping away tear stains with a calloused thumb. “I never should’ve allowed this to happen. You aren’t in the wrong, Robin. I shouldn’t put my work before you. Work is merely work. But you are a person. A person whom I love deeply.”

“Deeply?” You repeated in a softer voice. Frederick dared to smile at you, as if your heart hadn’t melted enough, as is. 

He nodded and took your hand in his, pressing his lips against your fingers. “With every fiber of my being. I swear to you, I will do everything in my power to prove it. ...If you’ll have me, that is.”

It took you no longer than a single breath before you wrapped him tight in your embrace.

“Of course I will.” You whispered, burying your face in his neck. “I love you, Frederick.”

He sighed against you, bringing his arms around you with a relieved smile. “My heart soars to hear those words. I love you too, my sweet.”

You pulled back to look down at him, beaming at your husband. “Oh, dear. I see you’ve remembered how to win me with those sweet words.”

“I’ll do more than just that, I assure you.” He replied with a grin, his hands falling to your waist. “I have much work to do to make up for all the time I’ve lost. I know full well that mere apologies won’t be enough to atone for my mistakes.”

“Well...I suppose you’re not wrong. It just depends on what exactly you plan on doing to atone, exactly.”

Slowly, Frederick rose to his feet, pulling you up with him and bringing you flush against his chest. His lips found yours, once, twice, three times, before he could bring himself to answer.

“I plan on doing everything to you that you want. I wish to ravish you, and be with you, if not because I need to, but because you want me here, with you. I promise you, I will do all I can to be by your side when you need me.”

“No more 23 hour work days?”

He chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead. “No more 23 hour work days.”

“And I have your word on that?”

“My word, my heart, my body and my soul.” He promised, lowering you both onto the bed. “We’ve the entire evening to ourselves now, you know. I suppose we ought to make the most of it, don’t you?”

“I...suppose.” You managed to choke out a response before he drowned you in the love you both starved for. He gave you all the passion and tenderness he had in his system, and even more so when you woke to find him next to you in bed.

Perhaps...a little bit more when he woke up, too.


	17. Critical Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a frantic search leads to a frantic proposition.

You were running the second you caught wind. Chrom and Sully were going through and calling each soldier, seeing who was accounted for, who was deceased, and who was missing. 

Your breath caught in your throat when you realized Frederick was among the missing. Instantly you were on the search. You, Lissa and Lon’qu made up the team for the lieutenant.

“Where could he have gone?” You thought aloud, searching frantically through the forest. The trees were blocking the little moonlight you had. 

A feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach grew when you realized this search could be totally worthless. You could barely see; how on earth were you going to find him? And what’s worse, what if you couldn’t find him in time, if you even did?

“Frederick!!” Lissa called, her brow furrowed unlike anything she’d ever worn before. “Frederick, where are you?!”

“Frederick! Say something if you can hear us!!” You called as well, shouting through the endless brush. “Gods, where could he have gone? How are we even supposed to know where to look?”

“The last place we saw him was northeast of the main battle.” Lon’qu informed you grimly, “If he’s anywhere, it’ll be in this direction.”

You all called for him again and again. At one point you decided all three of you should split up, and shoot up a flare if you found him. You had to recover him as soon as possible.

The mere thought of him disappearing made your heart ache. The cold lieutenant had truly touched you more than he realized. How close you had become, even if it was through a mountain of trust issues and gamey meats, you didn’t want to lose that. 

He meant more to you than just a good friend. You knew full well that you cared deeply for the knight. You might even go so far as to say you loved him.

You had kept silent for fear of those feelings not being returned. You were terrible about overthinking things. But this just confirmed things for you. No matter what, if you found him and brought him back safe, you would definitely tell him how you felt. You could handle rejection, but you couldn’t handle holding this in any longer.

Thankfully, that moment would come sooner than you realized.

“...Frederick?” You squinted as you stared off a distance, spotting the shimmer of metal reflecting the pale moonlight. You recognized that suit of armor anywhere. “Frederick!!”

You were sprinting. You barely remembered to send up a flare, closing the distance and dropping to your knees beside the lieutenant who struggled to move.

He started at the sound of your voice, shifting from where he lay uncomfortably on the ground, cracking his eyes open to see you. 

“Robin…? I-is it truly you?” He asked in a hoarse voice, his exhaustion and pain evident. You blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, your need to keep him alive overcoming your need to relieve your emotional stress.

“Yes, Frederick, it’s me. What on earth happened to you? You’re completely incapacitated!” You replied as you ghosted hands over him, trying to find the source of his situation.

“It was an arrow.” He explained, sounding weaker than you liked. “It must’ve been poisoned, or...dipped in a paralyzing agent. I-I’ve been unable to move for an hour or so.”

“A wound forced to stay open because you can’t move to cover it.” You thought aloud, imagining the blood loss he must’ve had already. Your hands fell to his leg, brushing against the arrow embedded in his thigh. You grimaced, feeling it wet with blood.

“I imagine that should hurt, but the funny thing is...I can barely feel anything, anymore.” Frederick chuckled dryly. “The blood loss has...furthered the numbing agent’s work. I’m sure it’ll only be a matter of time before-”

“No, Frederick. Not another word.” You cut him off, feelings of panic overriding your etiquette. You slipped the coat from your shoulders, pulled out the arrow, and pressed the cloth to the wound to stop the bleeding. “You’re not going anywhere, understand? I’ve sent up a flare- Lissa and Lon’qu are on their way. They’ll get you fixed in no time!”

“Is that...so…?” He exhaled softly, watching as you worked frantically to stop the bleeding. Even with that look of fear, you were so breathtaking. It reminded him why he’d fought to stay alive all this time in the first place.

“Y-yes, it is. So just keep it together, okay? I’m not gonna lose you!”

“Robin...if I don’t make it…”

“You will.”

“If I don’t-”

“You will, Frederick!”

“...If I don’t, there’s something I need you to know.” He patiently pushed past your protests, which coaxed your gaze from his wound to his eyes. “T-there is something in my pocket, there. If you could reach in and...and take it… It’s a gift, for you.”

“You can give it to me yourself, once we get back to camp.”

“Robin, p-please.” He insisted quietly, a tone you never heard before. It made you feel even more frightened than already, but of course you complied. You couldn’t bear to deny him anything. 

With a tremble in your fingers you reached into his pocket, slipping from it the only thing inside. It was a delicate silver band, with a single precious gemstone set in it. Your eyebrows drew together, confused. Why would this be a gift for-

You gasped.

“Frederick-!!”

“I wanted to...to make my feelings clear, with this.” He spoke in that same soft voice, “I was going to tell you as soon as the war ended, but..I fear now I may never get the chance.”

“O-oh, Frederick, don’t...don’t say that! You can’t say that, now!” You told him earnestly, that wobble in your voice making him smile, if only a little.

“I couldn’t hold back these feelings anymore. I have tried to resist...I have tried to convince myself that I w-wasn’t worthy of you. I have seen the way Lord Chrom looks at you, but...but as I felt my life draining away...I knew I had to tell you. I love you, Robin.”

You had to bite back the sob building in your chest. This wasn’t how you wanted things to go. All this time you dreamed of his confession, and yet it was at death’s door? No. You weren’t going to let things go this way.

“You aren’t going to die!” You argued stubbornly, pocketing the ring and returning to the task at hand. “You’re going to live, and you’re going to propose to me properly, and I’ll- I’ll say-”

“You’ll say…?” He looked up at you again, and if you didn’ know any better, you’d think there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“I’ll say...I’ll say that I love you-”

“FREDERICK!!” 

Lissa’s shriek interrupted you, your moment squashed as both she and Lon’qu arrived. The princess was nearly a sobbing mess, keeping it together long enough to give him the immediate medical help he needed.

You watched silently as she scolded him, cried and healed him, trying to decide if you should be relieved or amused by her antics. Lon’qu watched with less patience, helping Frederick to his feet when Lissa had worked most of the paralysis away. 

The knight leaned against the Myrmidon, one arm wrapped around his shoulder. The other you took, helping Frederick walk away from the site. A knowing, tired smile rested on yours and his faces.

At some point, he passed out. He didn’t recall making it back to the army, but he woke in the healing tent. More specifically, to you, reading aloud a novel Sumia had left him. He looked past your focused reading to see the beautiful little ring sitting atop the small bedside table. 

Without a word, his hand rose, taking the ring and catching your hand. Your reading came to a stop, watching as Frederick slid the ring on your finger without hardly a movement.

You looked up at each other, the blush on your face giving way to a bashful, brilliant smile. You took your hand in his, then, squeezing it tight as you continued to read to your recovering, wonderful husband-to-be.


	18. Matching Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick gets to spend some quality time with his baby boy, only to realize how much of his mother he really has.

It was one of those rare mornings that you had early morning council meetings, and Frederick’s training of the new recruits was relaxed. The one day a week Frederick had nothing to do, and the one day you had to be up and about.

He thought it was funny, but he didn’t mind terribly. After all, it gave him the perfect excuse to spend time with his darling little boy. 

Morgan, who, at the tender age of three months, was in need of constant care and attention. Frederick had more than enough to give.

Despite the disappointment of waking to an empty bed, he forgot it quickly when he heard the cooing and chirping of a certain little man. Frederick smiled tiredly, yawning as he rose from the bed to tend to his son. Much to his pleasure, the little one was more than happy to see him.

“Good morning, dear one.” He greeted his baby, who was wiggling and squirming all about in his blankets. “I see you’ve worked out of your wrappings.” 

He lifted Morgan out of his mess of blankets, the child far better at escaping his swaddling than enjoying them. No matter how hard he or Robin tried to keep him secure, he was always out of his cozy entrapment by the morning.

“It seems we have to get you swaddled back up again, don’t we? It never ceases to amaze me how you’re such a master of escape.” He joked, and cradled the tender little boy in his arms, carrying him to the dresser across the room. He abandoned the night’s blankets for a new, fresh one, as well as a change of clothes for Morgan, that morning.

The hand-stitched onesie with Frederick’s family crest would do fine, this morning. After all, you dressed him in the one with a little bear embroidered on the front the night before. 

“Come now, Morgan.” He chided when the baby began to squirm and squeak, restless and ready to eat. “You mustn’t fuss- you being properly ready for the day comes before you eat. That’s the best way to go about preparing for your day.”

His smile always grew whenever Morgan responded, usually in the form of baby gibberish still incoherent even to said baby. At three months, he was still so new, so fragile and unaware of the world. It just made Frederick want to protect and love him more than ever before.

“All right, now. Let’s get you nice and wrapped up.” He placed Morgan on his bed carefully, quick to dress him and clean him up as needed. Then, came the blanket.

Frederick leaned in close, making sure he had the blanket placed at the perfect proportion so Morgan laid right in the middle of it. Then, he took the corners, and slowly curled them around the baby, tucking him in nice and safe.

Morgan watched him with curious eyes. Frederick was awfully close to him, after all. He reached a tiny, pudgy hand out, his fingers touching Frederick’s nose. His father glanced down at him, beaming at his little boy.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He mused, taking Morgan’s hand and kissing the teeny fingers before settling his arm in the folds. “You’re not supposed to wiggle about when you’re being swaddled.”

Morgan just continued to stare at his father, eyes wide and inquisitive. Frederick felt a burst of warmth as he met them; they were the same color as yours, and just as curious and intelligent, too. 

Now that he thought about it, Morgan hadn’t really opened his eyes that much. Considering babies sleep most of the time when they were small, he hadn’t thought too much about Morgan’s eyes. But now that he saw them, it just made him love the child even more.

“You have your mama’s eyes.” He discovered with a soft chuckle, “You look more and more like her every single day. Of course you have her eyes, too, my little tactician.”

He pressed a kiss to Morgan’s forehead, eliciting a surprised squeak. The baby stared up at him in awe, looking utterly confused by whatever happened. Gods, Frederick loved his son.

“You’ve even got the same expressions she does when she gets surprised. The likeness in your eyes is just uncanny, Morgan.” His hands came up to Morgan’s head, his thumbs tenderly skirting over the chubby little cheeks. “You’re my beautiful little boy.”

He had been so lost in Morgan’s gaze he hadn’t heard the door open, nor the sound of your soft giggles when you spotted what was going on. Your early return from a pleasantly brief meeting was lucky, it seemed. You caught Frederick in the act of doting on his baby.

Frederick only realized you returned when he felt your hands slide over his back, arms wrapped around his waist. 

“Hello, handsome. What are you doing?” You asked with a broad grin, drawing Frederick up and bringing his lips to your forehead.

“Welcome home- I was just in the process of swaddling Morgan.”

“I didn’t realize swaddling him required so much conversation.” You pointed out, slipping away from him long enough to finish tucking Morgan in, kissing the little nose when you were done. 

“Ah, yes. Well, I was simply admiring Morgan’s eyes. Did you know he has yours?” He asked, “The likeness is uncanny. It was almost like I was looking right at you.”

“Except a baby.” You laughed, “I thought he had my eyes, too. If I recall, Morgan from the future did, too.” 

“Of course, but...it’s the first time I’ve really gotten a good look at his, here. It’s rare he opens his eyes, after all.”

“That’s true.” You agreed as you lifted the swaddled bundle of joy up, a happy gurgle coming from Morgan’s gummy smile. “We’ll be seeing plenty more of his big, pretty eyes in the future, I’m sure.”

“I look forward to it.” Frederick chimed, his heart swelled with love for his precious family. He wrapped his arm around your waist, his other hand ghosting over Morgan’s fuzzy hair. “I love you both very much, you know.”

“We love you, too.” You hummed, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. You broke apart only when Morgan began to fuss again, his tummy empty and ready to be filled. “And it seems Morgan loves to eat.”

“He’s not the only one.” Frederick snickered, escorting his family to the kitchen.

It certainly wasn’t the last time you’d catch Frederick fawning over little Morgan, but needless to say, it was a sight you’d never tire of.


	19. Protecting the Protector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn't survive another hit; you could.

You were used to fighting right beside Frederick, but sometimes you needed a little distance. Not much, maybe one or two fights away. You always kept a close eye on each other, watching out for your blind spots and working together even if you were apart.

But Plegians were stronger than they seemed. You hadn’t been expecting the battle to be so difficult, less so with such a high number of mages. You considered your magic resistance strong, but you knew full well you were one of few.

There were several knights in your ranks, and others who were more susceptible to magic attacks. Dark mages were particularly dangerous.

You knew Frederick was also weak to magic attacks. That’s why you practically screamed at him to get out of the way when you saw the dark mage point an attack at his blind spot. A shout swallowed by the war around you, that he didn’t hear. He was completely vulnerable.

“FREDERICK!!” You cried out, making quick work of your enemy before breaking after him. You sprinted through the field, tossing magic of your own this way and that, forging a path to your husband. You were losing time.

The dark mage had range that you didn’t. You had to warn him in time.

“FREDERICK, LOOK OUT!” Your call was unnoticed. Your husband was tense and exhausted, his strength waning from the endless assaults on his body. He could make quick work of the mages, but it required reaching them; the time it took to close the distance gave them more time to attack him...weaken him.

You could practically see the sneer on the mage’s face. Your heart crashed against your chest, threatening to burst from your chest. Your hand went up, ready to counter his attack and keep him from killing Frederick. The magic he was building was hefty. It was meant to be a critical blow.

He wouldn’t survive a magic attack like that.

“Thoron!!” You bellowed, thrusting your arm out and expecting a crackle of thunder. To your horror, there was nothing. You thought you made it in the nick of time- you were wrong.

In your rush to reach him, you used up the remaining magic in the tome. You were powerless to stop the mage.

The calculations stalled in your mind before whirring full force. You had to stop the attack before it was too late. You were mere feet from Frederick, you could almost push him out of the way- no, he was too heavy- you’d both get hit. There was only one thing left to do.

In that instant, you leapt forward. There was a snap, an explosion, and then you were flying. The last thing you remembered was slamming into something hard and cold before it all went dark.

* * *

Frederick was losing steam faster than he wanted to admit. He panted heavily, his armor weighing down on his aching muscles, arms and legs trembling under the weight combined with the trauma of multiple magical assaults. 

He couldn’t take much more, and he knew it. His teeth grit, forcing himself to continue his pursuit of the next mage. This one looked scared, but his power suggested otherwise.

Frederick wasn’t sure he could handle another blast. He had to move faster, be able to dodge him, but he could barely find the strength to swing his lance, let alone run. 

Sweat dripped down his forehead, the impending attack already gathering in the sorcerer’s palm. He was completely focused on shutting the man down.

He didn’t notice that he was the target for another mage, too. He had no idea. He found the strength to force his legs forward, a burst of adrenaline letting him rush the mage and the length of his lance letting him drive it through the devil’s side.

The weapon barely left his hands before he realized there was another attack coming. Frederick turned at the sound of crackling magic, finding the mass of Nosferatu barreling towards him. His eyes widened, arms raised to brace for the onslaught- it was all he could do.

It was like slow motion.

His forearms hadn’t even crossed in front of his face. A blur of black and purple suddenly rushed in front of him. The eye-patterned coat that came between him and the black mass. His expression contorted into one of sheer horror, and then-

Impact.

Frederick grunted when your body- your body- slammed into his, the force of magic sending you both careening into the ground yards away. He hit the dirt first, and you followed; your body skidded to a stop several feet from him. He landed on his back, the wind knocked out of him from front and back.

He gasped for air, staring up at the blurry sky. He hadn’t been harmed, though. In a few moments of jolted shock, he realized not a lick of dark magic had touched him.

You had taken the entire hit in his stead.

He choked.

You took the hit.

“No-!” He forced himself up, searching frantically for you. He struggled to form words, he could barely say your name, let alone function. It was when he saw you, face down on the ground, that it snapped him back into reality.

You weren’t moving.

“Robin!!” He yelped, and he was running. He slid to his knees beside you, groaning like a wounded animal as he tried to lift you in his arms. His muscles screamed at him to stop, trying desperately to keep from straining himself. He found the strength to lift you to his chest, but it only served to panic him more.

Your face was twisted in an unfathomable pain. The patches of pallid skin that wasn’t covered in blood was smeared with dirt and black magic residue. Your clothes were ripped from top to bottom, your coat in shambles. Your body felt broken. 

His arms tightened around you, unable to breathe. “No...no, gods-” 

He needed a healer. He had to find one before it was too late. He couldn’t lose you, not like this. Not sacrificing yourself for him. He wouldn’t be able to stand it.

He lifted from his knees, barely able to hold your weight. He couldn’t even hold himself up, but he had to find someone. You had to be healed, you had no time left. You were breathing so shallow he wasn’t sure they could be called breaths.

Frederick was terrified. This couldn’t be happening. Not to his wife. Not his beloved.

“Frederick!!” He was drawn from his fear by the sound of Maribelle’s voice. The troubadour galloped to him, her face pale at the sight of Robin. “Frederick, give her to me! She needs medical attention, now!”

“Take her-” He stammered, “T-take her, please, heal her-”

He felt empty when you left his arms, Maribelle’s surprisingly strong arms bringing you up onto her saddle. She then tossed him a elixir, looking down at him fiercely.

“Go and finish this battle! The sooner, the better!!”

Frederick didn’t need to be told twice. He downed the healing good in a single gulp, feeling its rejuvenating properties relieve him of his pain. His expression turned to one of stone cold revenge. The glare was locked onto the mage who had already forgotten the knight. He thought he’d won.

Unstoppable rage filled your husband. He drew out his axe, and charged straight for that evil little wizard. He would pay. 

Oh, gods, would he.

_“PICK A GOD AND PRAY!!”_

* * *

Several days had passed, since then. Every waking moment was meant to be spent by your side. Frederick refused to leave the healing tent the first 48 hours, insisting he stay with you. He couldn’t afford to leave you alone after what happened. He needed to be there.

It was Lissa who forced him out. She said his endless worrying and fears of the worst were stifling your healing process. You needed peace to heal, and Frederick was the definition of panic and fear.

Three days had passed since his banishment from the healing tent. He had forgotten what sleep felt like; dark circles zombified his face, contrasting starkly with his ashen skin. His hair was unkempt, his ribbon askew. 

He was a mess without you. Because of you. 

No matter how hard he tried to focus elsewhere, he couldn’t find the strength. Whether on patrol, or polishing armor, or building fires, he was consumed with worry. All he wanted was to know you were going to make it.

It was in the middle of carrying a stack of freshly cut firewood that he finally received word. Ricken barely got the sentence out of his mouth before the wood plummeted to the ground, abandoned by Frederick. He sprinted across the camp without a second thought.

His heart pounded with his footsteps, practically throwing himself into the healing tent. He flung the tent flap open and spotted the slew of healers surrounding your cot.

They looked tired, but relieved. None quite so as you, who locked eyes with him the instant he came inside.

He almost started crying then and there.

“Robin!” He breathed your name, striding to your bedside. The healers parted to give him room, quick to give you both privacy. “Oh, my love…!”

“Frederick…” You mumbled his name weakly, your smile a fraction of the glowing ones you graced hm with so often. It made his heart twist up even worse, and he was quick to take up your hand in both of his. “A-are you...were you hurt?”

“No. No, I’m fine. It was thanks to your recklessness that I could finish the battle.” He managed to explain, doing his best to compose himself. He hadn’t just been worried, after all. You threw yourself deliberately into harm’s way. He had to be cross with you, too.

“I see. I-I’m so glad.” You sighed, leaning back into the thin pillows. Frederick squeezed your hand, trying to keep your focus on him.

“Robin, why would you do that? What you did that day- you could have died. What were you even thinking, jumping in front of an attack like that? It was the most foolish thing I’ve ever seen!!” He scolded you, though you didn’t seem particularly bothered.

Instead your eyes fell shut, listening to his chiding. “I knew I could take it...I knew you couldn’t. There, ah...there wasn’t much to think about.”

He bit his lip, feeling the rage and guilt come back full force. She knew he was vulnerable, and knew as well as he did that he wouldn’t have survived that hit. “B-but even so! You shouldn’t have just thrown yourself into it! What if you weren’t strong enough to take it? Why would you be so quick to throw your life away??”

“I just...wanted to protect you.” You swallowed thickly, and opened your eyes to find his. You couldn’t see anything but remorse and guilt in his eyes. You smiled softly, weakly squeezing his fingers between yours. “I...I would’ve been beside myself if you died, that way.”

“And do you think I would feel any different if you died that way? If you had died for me?” He retorted, brow furrowed painfully. He dropped his shoulders, his forehead resting on the hands that cradled yours so carefully. “My sweet...my good wife, I...I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, knowing you sacrificed your life because of my weakness.”

“T-that’s what we’re supposed to do, Freddy. A husband and wife...they look out for each other. They protect each other.”

“Yes, but- but for you to die in such a way- Robin, I wouldn’t have even been able to say goodbye-!” His voice cracked, and he stopped. He shook his head, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. His struggle only made your heart ache worse. “You would’ve been gone in an instant, and there was nothing I could do to protect you. The mere idea makes my stomach churn.”

“Frederick...I can’t apologize for doing my duty. I had to protect you.” You finally said, your words quiet and slow as you waited for him to collect himself. “All that was on my mind was...keeping you safe. I hadn’t thought of how that...h-how you would feel.”

“I know that. It’s clear from your actions.” He scoffed bitterly, “You are truly a noble, wonderful woman, my dearest. I-I could not ask for an apology, knowing full well I would do the same. But...I must ask that you do not repeat this. We will find a way to prevent such a terrible thing from happening again. I couldn’t bear to see you in such a state, again.”

“Nor I, you.” You whispered, your hand gently slipped from his to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch, his lips ghosting over your palm as he relished your soothing touch. “I-I love you, Frederick. Even if it wasn’t my best idea...I’m so glad that you’re not hurt.”

“I love you, too. Deeply so. So, please...please, promise me you won’t do such a thing, again. Promise you’ll work with me to ensure we don’t allow another incident like this, from your side or mine.”

“It sounds reasonable to me. Unless absolutely necessary, I promise…” You assured him, knowing how he needed your word. He nodded slowly, lifting some so that he could press a kiss to the crown of your head. “So long as you promise to get some sleep. Y-you look awful, Freddybear.”

At this, he chuckled dryly. “You say that as if you aren’t lying in the healing tent, covered in bandages.”

“T-that can’t be helped.” You would’ve blushed if you weren’t so totally exhausted. “But you, on the other hand...you should go sleep. You can rest easy now, can’t you? Now that you know I’ll be okay.”

“Yes, I suppose I can.” He agreed with a tender smile. He finally relaxed, stroking your fragile little hand with his calloused thumb. “I will be sure to clean myself up, properly. I shan’t be gone long; I wish to be with you as much as I can. I missed you terribly while you were here.”

“I’ll be waiting.” You replied, granted one last, lingering little kiss before he left you. You were certain he ran to the tent and rocketed through getting ready- he was promptly back within a half hour with his hair perfectly combed and body thoroughly washed.

You certainly weren’t complaining, especially not when he made the arrangements to spend the night with you, that night (how he swindled it with Maribelle, you couldn’t figure out). You couldn’t deny you missed his embrace, knowing he longed to hold you as much as you longed to be held.

You both slept better than you had in days, that night. Surrounded in each other’s comforting warmth, reassuring each other that you would always be there. That you would protect each other, and love each other, no matter what.

Though you were both careful to take on mages together, from then on.


	20. Morgan Struck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan takes a critical hit Frederick thought was meant for him. He couldn't have been more wrong.

He was there. Dammit, he was there- he should’ve seen it. No, he did see it; the lone javelin in the sea of lances. Morgan and he were at an advantage on their horses, they could see the heads of several.

Frederick was a fool. He hadn’t thought to call out the weapon until it was too late. He thought it was coming for him. He looked into the man’s eyes. 

He met the soldier’s bloodlust with his own anger. He prepared to strike. The javelin was thrown. It shot past Frederick, piercing Morgan’s side. 

Gods, why couldn’t it have hit him?

“NO!!” Frederick roared, his eyes growing wide at his son’s cry. Morgan’s fall was burned into his mind; every aching second, watching in horror as his precious son dropped to the ground, clutching at the javelin that was coated in his blood.

Frederick flew into a blind rage, ferociously ripping apart every disgusting Valmese that dared challenge him. The javelin thrower was the first to meet his death.

“MORGAN!!” He shouted, the battlefield filled with bloody corpses. He leapt from Hebert’s back and sprinted to where Morgan lay, stiffly curled around the weapon that jutted from his body.

“Gods-!” Morgan yelped, clutching the weapon so tight his knuckles turned white. His face was pale, and he gasped for breath. He was in shock. 

“Morgan, hold on- hold on, I’ve got to take it out.” Frederick spoke in a rushed voice, his expression nothing but terrified. He closed his hand around the javelin and ripped it out in one movement, and Morgan forgot how to feel anything but pain. Guilt danced across Frederick’s eyes, but he could do little more than offer distant apologies.

He cried out, tears slipping from both father’s and son’s faces. Frederick tore away a piece of Morgan’s coat and worked frantically to stop the bleeding, the armor completely decimated from the critical strike.

Morgan needed a healer.

“F-Father…” Morgan reached out, trying to press the cloth down himself. “D-don’t worry- I can...I’ll be f-fine.”

“You will be- you will be, I promise!” Frederick could barely force the words out of his mouth, lifting his son from the ground, armor and all. He rushed off the battlefield, in search of his comrades. The healers were on the back lines. He knew you were on the far side of the battle, opposite himself and his son.

Lissa spotted them first.

“Frederick! M-Morgan!!” She gasped, hand flying to her mouth as Frederick raced up to them. Libra’s face hardened, quick to help Frederick.

“Please- save my son!” Frederick spoke with such raw fear in his voice, he didn’t even recognize it. His grasp on Morgan’s body fell away, reaching for his hand and holding the boy as long as he could before he disappeared. “Please…”

Frederick dropped to his knees, prompting another flurry of healers to crowd around him. He didn’t even realize his own injuries after tackling an entire battalion on his own, the rage of his son being felled in battle giving him the adrenaline to feel nothing but that anger.

His hands trembled, eyes glued to the ground. 

“Please save him…”

* * *

You had made it halfway back to camp when Lissa finally found you, scrambling to tell you what happened. All you heard was “Morgan’s hurt”, and you were running the rest of the way back.

You shoved your way into the healing tent, no regard for your own exhaustion. Your heart sank with the possibilities. Frederick was with Morgan. Had he been hurt, too? Pushed out of the way so Morgan was left vulnerable? What in the gods’ names happened to your family?

Your answers slowly came when you spotted Frederick standing outside of a cot surrounded by healers, trying desperately to see over them and find your son amongst the crowd.

You frowned deeply, striding up to him and grasping his hands. Frederick looked down at you, and immediately you knew what happened. Morgan was hurt when Frederick was there.

The guilt that clouded his vision, the remorse that filled the tears in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. You gave his hands a tug, leading him away from the healers.

“Let’s go, Frederick. We need to let them take care of him.” You managed to say, giving him no room but to follow. The moment you reached your tent, however, you sank onto the bedroll and pulled him into your arms.

It took Frederick about four seconds before he was shaking around you. You held him tightly, trying to soothe him despite the millions of questions running through your mind.

“What happened?” You asked in a timid voice, unsure if you wanted to know the answer. Frederick shook his head. 

“Oh, Robin, I...I failed him. There was a javelin. I-I thought the man was aiming for me but he threw it at Morgan instead and I- dammit, I should’ve seen it. H-he must’ve known.”

“A javelin?” You swallowed the fear building in your throat, doing your best to keep your composure. “Where? W-where did it hit him?”

Frederick shook his head again, squeezing you closer. “His side- Libra said he should recover if they can stop the bleeding in time, but...he could very well…” The rest of his fears were choked by the sobs in his throat.

You shut your eyes, sinking against Frederick. You felt the tears dripping into your hair, your husband having been utterly terrified. 

So filled with guilt you could feel it in your own heart. You knew it wasn’t reasonable, but you couldn’t help feeling like there was something you could’ve done. That if you’d been there with them, you could’ve prevented Morgan’s injury.

“Well...t-there’s not much we can do, is there?” You sighed, gently pulling away and cupping his cheek. “All we can do now is pray and wait for good news. Morgan’s a strong boy. He’s your son, after all; don’t you think he’ll pull through?”

“He has to.” Frederick grimaced, pushing the tears from his eyes with a calloused thumb. “I have to...I have to apologize to him. I have to see him well again. To lose him in battle would be too great of a pain for me to-”

“We won’t.” You stopped him, seeing the wave of sorrow washing over him threaten to drown you both. You stroked his cheek sweetly, giving him the best smile you could. “L-let’s have some faith in our son, all right? I know he’ll make it.”

“I...I can only hope.” Frederick bowed his head, his hands curling into fists against his knees, doing his best to keep his composure. You rose some, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him close.

You held him for what felt like ages. You had to comfort each other. It was terrifying that Morgan was hurt, but even more to see Frederick in such a state. You’d never seen anything like it. You prayed it would end soon...for both your boys’ sakes.

* * *

You barely slept. The two of you couldn’t even if you wanted to; your thoughts were swallowed by fear and worry, too anxious to let yourself rest. Frederick’s guilt was what kept him awake, after all; how could he rest when his son was suffering by his mistake?

You, on the other hand, were trying to balance worry between your grieving husband and your injured baby. You didn’t want Frederick to worry so much, positive he’d make himself sick. On the other hand you were almost as concerned about Morgan as he was, so you weren’t any better.

The night was spent doing feverish map planning, while Frederick sewed and stitched furiously, sometimes pacing, other times sitting on the cot with his foot tapping relentlessly against the ground. Even with shaking hands, his needlework was flawless.

It wasn’t until the gray of early morning that you received word. An assisting healer was sent to inform you that Morgan was awake. He had survived the night, and according to Libra, expected to make a full recovery.

The two of you burst out of the tent and raced to the healer’s, your hands linked tightly as you rushed to find Morgan. You separated only when you found the boy’s cot, each of you on either side of him as he greeted you with a wobbly, bright smile.

“Morgan!!” You breathed, wrapping him up in a crushing embrace. You held him tight, burying your face in your son’s hair. He laughed softly, unable to return the hug but glad to receive.

“H-hello, Mother and Father. I take it you missed me!”

“We were worried sick about you, Morgan.” You told him, pulling back to cup his cheek. “We thought something terrible was going to happen. For a moment we were even scared we might…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “No, it doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re awake, and you’re going to be all right!”

“That is well and good, but an apology must still be made.” Frederick interrupted, bringing Morgan’s attention to him when he grasped the boy’s hand. “It’s all my fault you landed here in the first place. I didn’t protect you as a father should.”

“Oh, but...you couldn’t help that! I didn’t see that javelin coming, either. H-he was a sneaky one.” Morgan tried to take some of the blame, but Frederick wasn’t having it.

He shook his head vehemently, “I saw it and assumed it was for me. I acted independently. I completely forgot that you were there too, and because of that, I left you open for attack. I should have been more defensive, for your sake. I acted poorly, and you suffered for it.”

“Father…” Morgan frowned, the sadness in his eyes mirroring yours perfectly. Frederick looked down, the crease deep in his brow. “Father, please. You can’t take the blame for this. It wasn’t all your fault, after all- I wasn’t paying enough attention that I didn’t see it coming for me. It’s partially my fault, too.”

“You are young, Morgan. You can’t be expected to be fully aware on the battlefield. I’ve more experience, so I should’ve been the one to point it out. I admire your sense of responsibility, son. But I am afraid the problem lies with me, alone.”

“Frederick, he’s right. You really shouldn’t take all the blame on alone. It’s not really either of your faults, to a degree- after all, sometimes there are just instances on the battlefield where injuries can’t be avoided. It’s a constant threat to all of us.” You pointed out.

Morgan nodded, “She’s right, Father! This was just one of those times. I promise, you’re no more to blame than me or the man who threw the spear. It’s no good to see you so hard on yourself, anyways.”

“Forgive me.” Frederick smiled, albeit bitter and weak, “I just...am ashamed that I could not protect my family. It isn’t the first time it’s happened, but to think I allowed my son to be harmed...it truly is a travesty.”

“W-well…” Morgan struggled to find a solution, the sorrow on Frederick’s face a shock to both of you. You shared a look with your son, unsure of what to say. 

At least, until Morgan’s eyes popped wide open.

“Wait, I know!” He cried, “Father, why don’t you and I work together to prevent this sort of thing from happening, again?”

“...I would be all for it, if I knew what you meant.” He slowly responded, a curiosity in Frederick’s eyes. 

“You said that you saw the javelin coming and thought it was for you. Out of all the soldiers in the enemy army, he was the one you saw locking onto you- or, well, me. If you could teach me to have that kind of perception, I could properly defend myself!”

“You wish for me to train you with my own techniques?” Frederick quirked an eyebrow. 

“Of course! That’s a wonderful idea.” You chimed in, “Frederick, you should! He could learn to look out for things like that and then we could avoid this happening in the future. You blaming yourself for things out of your control, that is.”

 

Frederick frowned at your additional jest, but eventually agreed. Only on one condition; that Morgan be back to full health before he so much as lifted another weapon.

With two doting parents like you, he was ready to train in no time.


	21. Courtyard Picnic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some classy fluff where Morgan finds a new friend in the middle of lunch.

It was one of those few special days where you didn’t have to balance between work and Morgan. Today, it was all about Morgan. The two of you were enjoying the warm sun in the courtyard, the spring season finally blessed Ylisse, and Morgan was more than happy to escape the endless layers of knitted sweaters, hats and scarves his father gave him.

He bounded around the garden in his cotton tunic, his little feet bare and relishing the feeling of cool grass between his toes. You sat on the blanket where you were initially eating with your son, watching him play with a brilliant smile on his face.

“Careful, Morgan.” You cautioned him when he tripped behind a bush, his yelp followed by a string of giggles. “Your father won’t be pleased if you hurt yourself instead of finishing the rest of your carrots.”

“Yes, Mama!” Morgan chirped, starting back for you. He made it about halfway before he froze, his eyes growing wide. You tilted your head, wondering what on earth he was staring at. At least, before a large, shiny beetle flew past your head and over Morgan’s. “Oh!! Pretty bug!”

You scrunched your nose, watching Morgan’s focus instantly shift to chasing the buzzing beetle around the courtyard. “Morgan-”

“Beetle, beetle bee!!” He giggled, jumping and running along, reaching up and trying to catch it.

“Morgan, your veggies are-”

“C’mere, beetle!” He squealed, rushing forward and trying to capture the bug. He leapt up a number of times, all in good fun until his fingers caught its thorax. “There you are!!”

“Oh, dear.” You bit back a groan when you saw Morgan running up to you, grinning brightly and thrusting the bug out for you to see.

“Look, Mama!! I caught it, I caught it!” He cheered, “Isn’t it pretty?”

“That’s...not quite what I was thinking, but if that’s what you think, then it’s fine with me.” You managed, eying its wiggling, creepy crawly legs warily. “But you know, you’ve still got some carrots you need to-”

“What do you mean? Look how shiny he is! He’s a handsome bug!! He has big eyes that are really nice, too. Handsome!”

“No, you’re handsome.” You mused, pinching his cheek. Morgan snorted, swatting at your hand.

“He’s handsome too, though!”

“I don’t really see it, but maybe that’s just because I think bugs are kind of gross.” You replied with a small smile, “Now about those carrots.”

“He’s a handsome bug.” He pouted, coming to sit next to you. The beetle remained in his hand, the other taking up the vegetables waiting for him and starting to take a bite.

“There you two are.” Morgan paused just before the first carrot could be bitten, looking up to find his father striding towards you both. “I was informed the two of you were spending the afternoon in the gardens.”

“Papa, look!!” Morgan exclaimed as he ran up to his father, holding up his prize beetle. “Papa, I caught a beetle!!”

“Did you, now?” Frederick mused, spotting your lack of mirth in the background. You shrugged at him before the beetle was suddenly pushed into his line of vision, Morgan excitedly hopping from foot to foot.

“Look!! Isn’t he amazing?!”

“‘He’ is certainly...something.” Frederick noted politely, though Morgan could tell he wasn’t being sincere.

“You don’t like him?” Morgan said with a sadness in his eyes. Frederick shook his head, smiling at his adorable son.

“Of course I like him. Not as much as I like you, though.” He responded tactfully, ruffling his son’s hair.

“But that’s not fair! You gotta like him just as much as you like me! Otherwise you’ll make him sad.” Morgan explained urgently, much to your husband’s amusement.

“Really? You want me to treat you and a bug the same?” He quirked an eyebrow, watching said insect’s struggle to escape the little boy’s grasp.

“Yeah! Gotta be fair.”

“Maybe the beetle would eat his carrots if he were asked. That would certainly get me to like him more.” You said from the side. Frederick shared a look with Morgan, eyebrows raised.

“It sounds like someone hasn’t been eating their vegetables. You know how that makes Mama feel.”

“Oh, no! I forgot!!” Morgan exclaimed, hurrying back to the blanket. Frederick followed after his son, loosening the ribbon around his neck as he came to sit beside you. He pressed a kiss atop your head as he settled down, allowing you to very contentedly settle against his chest. 

“Perhaps you should release your beetle friend, son. It may help you to focus more on doing what you’re told. He does seem to be a bit of a distraction.” Frederick suggested, which you agreed with instantly.

“What? B-but I just caught him! And he’s so cool!” Morgan protested, looking at his little beetle. Frederick nodded patiently, but insisted.

“There will be other opportunities to capture beetles in the future. Perhaps he will come back to visit you after you’ve finished eating. But you’d best hurry; I may sneak in and take your carrots for myself.”

“No, you can’t! Mama’ll get mad at me for not eating them!” Morgan whispered furiously, eliciting a snicker from your husband and an eye-roll from you. Morgan sighed softly, looking at the beetle. The bug buzzed in his hand, ready to be let go. “Well...I guess this is goodbye, then. I’ll see you some other time, right?”

The response came in the form of its wings flapping furiously beneath Morgan’s fingers. Morgan nodded vigorously, as if he could understand the insect (you were fairly certain it was just trying to get away). 

“Okay...bye bye, Sir Beetle.” Morgan reluctantly opened his hand, allowing the beetle to fly to freedom. The three of you watched the bug fly away, disappearing into the bushes a ways away. “I’m gonna miss him...he was so cool.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of other...cool bugs...in the future.” Frederick assured the boy, “Now why don’t we finish lunch? The sooner you’re finished, the sooner you’ll be able to play.”

“And catch more bugs!!” Morgan cheered, happily taking a crunchy bite of his carrots (at long last). “And you and Mama can help me!!”

Frederick chuckled when you groaned, opposed to the idea. “I suppose we could. It sounds like quite a challenge.”

“One I may just concede before we begin…”

“Aw, c’mon, Mama! It’ll be lots of fun! Maybe you can catch a beetle all your own!”

“That’s exactly why…”


	22. Single Parent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick is left to raise Morgan alone while he waits for you to return. Morgan wants to know all about you, too.

Frederick always made it a point to return home quickly. Morgan would be waiting in the castle nursery, where he and several other young ones were being taken care of. The young Owain and Lucina were usually playing with him, as their parents were a bit busy, too.

Despite knowing Morgan was in safe hands and among friends, he didn’t want to leave him longer than he had to. Frederick was all he had left. Three years ago you’d sacrificed yourself to save the world. Since then, Frederick was thrust into the world of single parenting.

All he did now was spend as much time with Morgan as possible. Remind him daily that Mama and Papa love him very much, and that Mama would come home, soon. Even when he was exhausted beyond all measure, he found it in him to shower his son with all the affection in the world (you know, to make up for the mother he was missing).

Hence his open arms when he entered the nursery, sending Morgan barrelling away from his fake sword fight and into Frederick’s warm embrace. “Hi, Papa!!” He cheered, giving the big man the best hug he could. “I was waitin’ for you!”

Frederick’s tiredness melted away as soon as he saw Morgan’s smile. “Were you, now? I hope you were well-behaved while you waited.”

“I was!” The four-year-old replied honestly, “I said ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘no ma’am’ and ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ the whole time!”

“Good boy.” Frederick beamed at him, standing up and taking Morgan’s hand. “Shall we be off, then?”

“We shall!” He chirped, happily skipping alongside his father, who walked patiently alongside him. Morgan rattled off all the things he’d done through the day, from playing pretend to rescuing Lucina’s lunch from the thief Owain, to the painting he created for his father.

“The nursemaid said I have to wait until it’s dry, but I made it specially for you!” Morgan said cheerfully. Frederick tousled Morgan’s hair. 

“That’s very kind of you, Morgan. You’re becoming rather artistic; something you certainly inherited from your mother.” Frederick said, more to himself than anyone. But Morgan heard him, and looked up at his father curiously. He paused for a moment, watching the soft smile that crossed Frederick’s lips.

“Papa?”

“Mm?”

“What was Mama like?” 

The question was apparently loaded. Frederick’s expression contorted, almost looking upset. HIs brow furrowed, grip tightening on Morgan’s hand. But he remembered his son’s curious gaze, and quickly wiped it away.

“Your mother?” He sighed, a soft smile relaxing his features. “Ah, your mother’s incredibly smart, and talented. Her skills and strength are completely unparalleled, even against me. Robin’s...Robin’s an amazing woman.”

“Wow…” Morgan whispered in wonder, grasping Frederick’s hand tighter. “Mama was even tougher than you?”

“Loathe as I am to admit it, she still is.” Frederick chuckled. “Your mother is the best at everything she does. And on top of all that, she’s the most caring, devoted and loving woman I’ve ever met.”

“Mama’s really great, isn’t she?” Morgan said dreamily, leaning against Frederick’s arm. His father nodded, staring down the hall.

“The best.” He whispered.

“Oh! Then that means…” Morgan trailed off, suddenly serious, “That means I have to make a painting for her, too! One for the best Papa, and for the best Mama!! And then I can give it to her when she comes back!!”

“That’s a wonderful idea, son.” Frederick agreed. “I’m sure she’ll adore it the moment she sees it.”

“Good! Because I’m gonna show her the second she comes home!” Morgan declared, grinning broadly. “Um...but, I don’t know when she’s gonna come back. Do you, Papa?”

Frederick paused, his lips quirking downward. “I don’t.” He admitted, frowning deeply.

“Oh.” 

“However,” He quickly added, knowing better than to let his own worries show in front of his son, “I know it won’t be much longer. Your mother was always good at keeping her promises, and made haste in delivering on her word. I’m sure she’ll be home, soon.”

“Soon!” Morgan chimed, his smile returning. “I can’t wait!! She sounds so great, and I know she’ll wanna see the painting, too! Ohhh, I can’t wait at all!!”

“Me, neither.” Frederick mused, putting on a brave face. He squeezed Morgan’s little hand tightly, “I can hardly wait.”


	23. Feverish Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you are ill and incapacitated, leaving Frederick and Morgan to protect the camp without your guidance.

He paced back and forth outside your tent, his hands clenched tight behind his back as he waited for some sort of feedback from Libra. His bottom lip was chewed sufficiently, jaw set tight. Considering the state of anxiety he’d taken on one would assume you were dying in there.

To Frederick, you might as well have been. After heading to your tent for the morning wake-up call (or good morning kiss, as you preferred), it only took a glance at you curled into your cot to realize something was wrong. When you didn’t respond to his calls and his hand touched boiling skin, the poor man turned into a basket case.

Libra kicked him out shortly after Frederick dragged him in, separating husband from wife in the name of focus. Frederick disagreed his floating was a distraction, but he was willing to do whatever he had to ensure your safety.

But he was just as glad to have Libra allow him a back inside. He hurried to the priest with a nervous frown, which deepened when he caught sight of Libra’s exhausted expression. “What is the diagnosis?” He asked, “Will she be all right? S-she will, won’t she?”

“It is nothing to be overly concerned about, Sir Frederick.” Libra assured him with a brief smile. “She merely contracted an illness from over exhaustion. Moving between the extreme temperatures of Ferox and Plegia has done her little good. Considering how hard she pushes her body it’s only natural she would give out at some point.”

“I warned her not to do so much at once.” He muttered to himself. Libra only smiled, pulling back the tent flap to allow him entry.

“I’m certain she’s said the same to you. For now, I recommend you visit with your wife. I doubt she’ll be responsive, but she’ll appreciate your company all the same.”

“Of course.” Frederick nodded curtly before heading inside, “Thank you.” With that, the knight was inside, and he immediately recoiled at the sight. You were lying flat on your cot, wrapped to the point of constriction in an attempt to keep your temperature up. Your face was red and scrunched, tense as if fighting off terrible pain. You were sweating and sunken. 

It made his heart twist at the sight.

“Foolish woman,” He murmured, coming to sit beside you. His hand clasped yours as if by instinct, squeezing your fingers tight, “I thought I told you to be more responsible. Here you’ve gone and worked yourself to the bone, and for what? A fever and aching bones?” 

He grimaced when you didn’t respond, your labored breathing an indicator of how hard your body was working. His thumb ghosted over the back of your hand, and he frowned even more than before.

“You always jest about how I’ll worry myself sick. Yet here you are, unable to move or even speak. If anyone should relax, it’s you, my love.” His scolding was gentle, like his touch when he reached up to your face, brushing his fingers across your cheek. 

“You mustn’t push yourself so hard. Otherwise you’ll worry everyone in the camp, besides myself.” He added, fondly pushing hair out of your face. “For now, you should rest. Don’t bother fretting about camp, because I am certain that’s what you’re thinking of right now. Allow yourself some time to heal. I’ll make sure the Shepherds are in order during your absence.”

Frederick stayed by your side a little while longer, trying to determine if he should give you a few herbal remedies to speed up your healing process. Before he could even stand, the tent flap suddenly burst open, snapping his attention to the newcomer.

“Father!”

“Morgan?” Frederick stood, noticing the drained color on his son’s frightened face, “What’s the matter? Has something happened?”

“I-it’s Risen! They’ve been spotted, right outside of camp! Lord Chrom told me to get you and Mother and prepare for… Wait a moment, what happened to Mother?” Morgan’s fear came to a pause when he saw your face, eye widening when he saw the state you were in. 

“She’s succumbed to over exhaustion, and she will be fine.” Frederick reassured him quickly, “You said Risen are coming? How far out are they from camp?”

The question was answered by a soldier shrieking about tents being set ablaze. Morgan and Frederick shared a glance; they were right on top of the campsite. 

“Morgan, go prepare your horse and lances quickly! Gather as many troops as you can that can wield a weapon and begin a counter strike immediately, understood?”

“B-but what about Mother? She’s defenseless like this!” Morgan pointed out, and Frederick nodded gravely. 

“I will stand guard outside her tent and protect from oncoming forces. It’s your job to make sure they don’t get this far. Can you do that for me, son?”

“Yes, I will!” Morgan replied with fiery determination, reaching out and grasping your hand. “Don’t worry, Mother. We’ll keep you safe!” 

Frederick watched his boy disappear from the tent, practically sprinting across the camp to do as his father asked. He felt a swell of pride for Morgan, knowing they would be in good hands so long as he took charge. With that assurance he turned back to you, covering your hand with his once more.

“Worry not, milady. I will protect you from all harm.” His vow was certain, giving you a lingering gaze before leaving your tent to procure the necessary weapons. He rushed to gather his lances, swords and axes, the very best of his stock to protect the very best tactician.

As promised, he positioned himself outside your tent, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. As promised, the Risen appeared in droves seconds later. He readied a silver lance, glaring at the monsters closing in on the camp. The Shepherds charged after them, prepared to defend the camp with their lives. And Frederick was ready to defend you with his.

* * *

It started slowly, at first. Chrom maintained a solid defense, with Morgan and Lucina following behind him with the first and second flanks to keep Risen from the middle. But the longer the battle continued, the more Risen slipped through the cracks.

Frederick engaged them only when they came close enough to reach. An odd short lance or volant axe would be thrown at those he couldn’t stab directly, but that’s when they started getting smart. 

He grit his teeth, jaw clenching tightly when they came from all angles. He sent an axe flying into a Risen attempting to come through the back of your tent, and another who came from the side. Others began to linger farther away from where you were, forcing him to draw from his post and engage those the other Shepherds couldn’t reach.

‘This is starting to get uncomfortable.’ He thought to himself, impaling Risen after disgusting Risen with his lance. ‘It’s almost as though they’re deliberately taking me away from Robin…’

The idea lingered in his mind the further he was pushed from your tent. He was almost ten meters away from you, and there were more Risen coming. Frederick slammed his axe into another’s face. ‘Gods, what is Morgan doing??’

“Father!!” His eyes snapped up at the sound of Morgan’s cry, his son galloping towards him and destroying a slew of zombies in his wake. 

“What’s going on? These Risen just keep coming!” Frederick shouted over the roars of Risen. Morgan helped cut them away, his expression intense as he helped his father.

“There was a surprise wave we didn’t see coming, but don’t worry! This is the last of them. We just need to be careful,” He added, freeing his father’s path to return to your tent, “There were reported assassin and archer Risen in the final wave. We counted 14 of each!”

“That’s too many.” Frederick grimaced, cutting his way through the rest of the Risen and returning to his place before you. “Can you handle this on your own?”

“If there are any I can’t, I’ll leave them to you!” Morgan grinned, and returned to his work. Frederick almost smirked at his son’s confidence. That was definitely something he inherited from you. 

Naga must have taken pity on him, because it only took minutes until the crowd was thinned. The rest of the Shepherds were spread out, taking down whatever remaining Risen lingered. That was the tricky part; the last ones were the archers and assassins Morgan warned him of before.

“That should be the last of them.” He grunted, sending one last axe into one last Risen. He surveyed the field in front of him, plenty of felled bodies in need of being disposed of. Looked like he had his afternoon figured out for him. “Morgan! Are you finished?”

The young cavalier turned at his father’s voice, pulling his lance out of a Risen’s chest with a grin. “I’m all done, Father. I’m sure that was the last of--” 

Morgan suddenly gasped, and his eyes grew wide. Frederick’s brow furrowed, wondering what was wrong until Morgan’s shout.

“Father!! Behind you!!!”

That was all he needed. Frederick swiveled around just in time to see the flap of your tent move. A flash of gray skin escaped his vision, and his face paled. It was an assassin. 

“No!!” 

He sprinted towards your tent, closing the feet of distance and bursting into the tent. His eyes grew wide; a blade poised over your chest and all you could do was brace for death. Frederick couldn’t have moved faster.

“Pick a god and pray!!” He thrust the lance through its chest. The Risen groaned, blade dropping from its hands. Frederick mercilessly ripped it out of its body, red painting his vision. 

Silence covered the tent once again, and he nearly sank to his knees. His breathing was ragged; that was too close. Morgan rushed into the tent after him with blade at the ready. “F-Father, is she all right?!” He immediately came to your side, fingers trembling. 

“She’s fine.” Frederick exhaled. “That one nearly got away.” He murmured, running a hand through his hair. “If I’d only been a second later, she…”

“It’s a good thing you weren’t, then.” Morgan managed a weak smile, holding your hand. Your body was still warm, but face not quite as tense as before. Whether it was because you knew you survived a near-death experience or not, he wasn’t sure. “You’re safe now, Mother. Just like we promised.”

“Make sure there aren’t any others lurking about. Check with the scouts to get a head count. We mustn’t let another infiltration happen in someone else’s tent.” Frederick ordered his son after a moment of quiet. Morgan nodded wordlessly, escaping the tent and leaving you both alone.

Ignoring his own cuts and bruises Frederick came to your side, touching your face. Droplets of blood had touched your skin, and he was quick to wipe them away. He didn’t quite register the trembling of his own limbs. 

“Thank the gods you’re all right.” He whispered, “Perhaps it’s best you recover quickly. I’m not sure I can handle another experience quite like that.” His murmurs were met with a tiny smile, though the rest of you didn’t move. “And I may join you here, later. I feel a bit...unwell, after that.”

Libra came in afterwards, making sure both knight and tactician were unharmed. After patching up Frederick he had him put on bedrest, diagnosing him with literally being worried sick. Considering you nearly died in front of him, it made sense, though you still teased him about your not-so-tough knight once you recovered.

Needless to say you “weren’t allowed” to get sick like that again, according to your husband. Though he nearly made you sick with all the bitter remedies he made you drink.


	24. Migraine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick returns home to find you've succumbed to a terrible migraine; as if he didn't worry about you enough already.

It had turned into another long day training the new recruits, but he dealt with it as always. The soldiers never would have guessed how exhausted he felt, thanks to Morgan’s new teething schedule carrying over to late night, when he was supposed to be sleeping.

Having a meticulous and strict sleeping schedule meant he wasn’t prepared for losing sleep, especially not long hours. He put on a strong face regardless, ready to power through a day of brutal training and retire to an early night in hopes of catching up on rest lost.

His hopes of recovering precious sleep was dashed, however, at the sound of Morgan’s crying. Frederick’s brow furrowed, hearing the little one’s cries all the way down the hall. He felt a sting of concern for his son, though knowing it was only his teeth coming in kept him from doing anything brash.

_‘Perhaps he’s chewed through the last few toys Robin bought him.’_ He thought, making a mental note to stop by the children’s store after his rounds through Ylisstol tomorrow. However, the thought disappeared instantly when he opened the door.

“Robin, I’m- Robin?!” His eyes widened at what he saw. You were collapsed to the floor, Morgan wailing beside you, and you weren’t moving. Frederick’s blood ran cold at the sight, heart in his throat when he raced to your side and scooped you up, turning you over and searching your pale face for some sign of consciousness.

“Robin? Robin, look at me, what happened?” His fingers ghosted over your face, reaching your neck and wrist in search of a pulse. He could finally breathe out when he felt one, your heart actually pounding despite your deathly appearance. 

Your face was scrunched up in pain, body quivering slightly as if you wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball. He recognized the symptoms, seeing as this wasn’t the first time. Carefully he lifted you, jaw clenched tightly when he moved you from the floor to the bed. 

_‘Another blasted migraine.’_ He thought to himself with a worried expression. The drapes were quickly shut, any candles lit dimmed or blown out in an attempt to ease your pain. They’d been happening more and more often, and it was beginning to concern him much more, no matter how big you smiled when he expressed it.

“Don’t worry Frederick, I’ll be fine.” You told him after every bout, but it served to make him much more anxious when you collapsed the next time. He would tolerate it no longer; the man needed to put a stop to your suffering, lest it grow worse and worse.

You’d begun to notice a pattern with your migraines, which only served to make his nerves worse. Every time you came closer to the date of Grima’s defeat, the migraines happened more often. It was an anniversary the both of you would like to forget, but the Fell Dragon planned on being remembered.

Frederick shook his head, knowing he’d need to consult Libra about this later. For now, his focus was entirely on his wife who suffered in front of him. 

_‘Oh, Robin…’_

“Silly woman,” He muttered, grabbing a small basin from the smaller kitchen and filling it with the cold water stored away, quick to dip a cloth in it and press it to your forehead, “You promised me you would be all right, and yet we’ve reached this point again.”

 

He drew the covers up over your body, the frown deepening on his lips when you whimpered in pain. These migraines were horrible; you could hardly talk, move or even acknowledge the existence of other people. They left you totally vulnerable, and the very idea was enough to set Frederick the Wary on edge.

Wordlessly, he brushed his fingers across your face, the touch lingering until the cries of Morgan recaptured his attention. Frederick sighed, running his thumb over your temple before leaving you alone to retrieve the little one sobbing on the floor. 

At least he was sitting up, nothing horribly wrong there. For a second he’d feared you had dropped Morgan when the migraine hit, but judging by the teething toys littered around him you must have been playing with him.

“Come here, son.” He said softly, lifting Morgan from the floor of woes and taking a toy with him. He quickly sanitized it before giving it to the little one to pacify him, managing a small smile when the cries eased into weak sniffles. “There’s a good lad.”

Frederick carried Morgan into the bedroom then, falling completely silent when he came to your side again. A chair was pulled from your desk so he could sit by the bedside, settling his son on his lap. Your two boys were quiet for some time, watching over you while you struggled through yet another killer headache.

“Mama.” Morgan whispered softly, making his father glance down at him. A little hand reached out to touch the blankets you lied under, but Frederick caught his hand, rubbing the little fingers sweetly as he drew back.

“She’ll be all right, Morgan.” He murmured, kissing the top of the boy’s head. Frederick would make plans to bring Libra in, to see how Robin was doing the next morning. He couldn’t very well lie to the little one, after all. Frederick was known for being thorough. After finding you on the floor, he had every intention of making sure this never happened again.

“Papa?”

“I’ll make sure of it.” He promised his son, planting a kiss on his head once more before the two of them silently watched over you. “It will all be just fine.”


	25. Picking Names (Modern AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick plays a game with you to figure out the baby's name.

A few things happened when Frederick came home and you were crying. At first, he was extremely worried. His briefcase quickly set aside, jacket hung on the rack before heading straight to the source of the sniffling. A deep frown curved his lips downward, finding you either by the window or on the couch. 

Instantly, his arms would wrap around you, gently bringing you to his chest and pressing kiss after kiss to your forehead. He’d cradle you tight, letting you sob softly into his dress shirt. Whatever makeup on your eyes stained the linen, though he hardly minded.

Instead, he caressed your hair, rocking you slowly, moving back and forth. And you would wait a while, simply revelling in his touch and his embrace. Eventually you’d calm down enough, and he’d finally ask you a careful question. “What happened this time?”

You huff and hiccup, holding up your phone to show him a video. “I-it’s just...t-t-these ducklings are…are playing with all these kittens and it’s just- it’s just- s-so beautiful…!”

And so began the situation he found himself in about every other week. 

“You’ve found two baby animals in one video? That’s dangerous, my love.” He said, resting his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped carefully around your waist, conscious of the growing baby you carried yourself. “...And it’s got a song playing in the background? Do I want to know what it is/”

You nodded, turning the volume up. “I-it’s the ‘Wonderful World’ song by, um...L-Louis-”

“-Armstrong. No wonder you’re crying.” Frederick muttered, and closed his hand around the tablet, gently prying it from your hands. “We talked about this before, didn’t we? I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep watching these videos.”

“I-I know, but-” You hiccuped, “It was just s-so...so cute!”

"It’s bad for the baby if you cry so much. That’s what Dr. Libra said. And he’s never wrong.” He reminded you, taking you slowly away from the window and sitting on the couch, settling you on his lap. His strong arms wove around you, hands resting on the baby bump. 

“But how am I supposed to live if I can’t love the little animals? T-they deserve attention just as much as anyone else!” Frederick bit his tongue, determined not to say anything that would have a 99% chance of making you more upset. Instead he nodded in faux understanding, letting you bury your face in his chest.

“You can give the, er...pre-recorded animals as much attention as you want as soon as the baby’s born. I promise.” He assured you, kissing the top of your head. “Now, why don’t we get you to bed? Heaven knows how much trouble you’ll be in if you don’t get your hourly bedrest.”

“Only if I can have something good to eat.” You sniffed, looking up at him hopefully. Frederick couldn’t help the smile that rose on his lips, pressing a kiss to your lips before lifting you from the couch.

Like a proper knight, he carried you to the bedroom. “I’ll take care of dinner. You worry about getting some sleep.”

“But I’m not tired.” You protested, and for a second, Frederick felt his paternal instincts kicking in; it was like dealing with an actual child. 

“Then do the exact opposite of what I normally do and relax.” He replied simply. You were settled on the mattress and left to your own devices while he hurried into making something to feed you. Being eight months into the pregnancy, he’d become more and more tentative, especially when trying to figure out what to let you eat. He had Libra on speed dial just to make sure he was giving you only the best.

Of course, you loved to tease him for that, and all he did was try to make sure you were properly taken care of. Hence the vegetable-heavy meal he precariously prepared, taking it up to your bedroom thirty minutes later. What he saw made him pause in the doorway, quirking an eyebrow at the somewhat strange sight.

“...Robin? What on earth are you doing?” He asked you, setting the steaming plate on your bedside. You motioned for him to join you, whatever tears previously shed completely forgotten.

“Come sit with me, and take a pencil!” You handed him a sheet of paper, one of many strewn around the bed. He complied hesitantly, taking the spot beside you on the bed and clearing away the excess paper. “I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to name the baby. I know we haven’t come up with anything yet, so I thought we should try and come up with some.”

“All right. I suppose that wouldn’t be a terrible idea. Though I can’t help but wonder where in the world all this paper came from…”

“I grabbed some from the office.”

“While you’re supposed to be on bedrest?”

“Just hush up and write some names. When you come up with thirty, we’ll go back and forth down the list and see which one matches up. And when the names are the same, that’ll be the one we choose.” You said, sounding surprisingly excited about the idea. “I saw it on Pinterest. It sounded like a cute game, so I figured we should try it.”

“What if we both choose a name that we don’t really like?” He asked, despite scribbling down a few already. You shrugged, tapping your pencil against your sheet.

“Then we pick another. No big deal. Now, let’s begin!"

* * *

“Damian.”

“Apollo. It’s a strong name.”

“William.”

“Houston. Intelligent.”

“Kaden.”

“Lincoln. Bit of history behind that one.”

“Telling me what they mean won’t sway my opinion.” You laughed, looking to your husband who seemed a touch exasperated by the game. You were halfway through the game at this point, and Frederick resorted to different tactics to try and get the name chosen. 

“It might help to know what the name means, you know. Instead of just picking one off the top of your head, it would benefit the baby if we picked something a little more...meaningful.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been thinking through these names long before I even let you play the game!” You protested, poking his nose with your pencil. He grunted.

“So why did you pick Damian, then?”

“Damian Lillard, the Olympic finalist?” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Frederick sighed, shaking his head. “No matter. Are we going to finish this game, or what? I have a feeling neither of us are going to get the same name.”

“Nonsense. One of us will figure it out.” You assured him. “Charles?”

“Reid.”

“Morgan?”

“...Hm. Morgan.” His eyebrows rose, looking at you. A huge grin broke onto your face, looking positvely delighted. 

“See? I knew it would work!!”

“You’ve proven me wrong.” He chuckled softly, glancing at the paper. “Morgan. That’s a strong name, isn’t it? Intelligent, too.”

“And leads to optimistic, energetic kids.” You added, and he stared. “And you thought I didn’t research my names. What do you think I do for a living?”

“Research.” He smiled, setting the paper aside. Frederick placed a hand on your swollen tummy, rubbing affectionately. “What do you know. We’re going to have a Morgan.”

“You hear that, baby?” You pressed your hands over Frederick’s, smiling brightly. “Your name’s gonna be Morgan!”

“And a strong boy you’ll be when you’re born, no doubt.” He chimed in, gazing up at you. “At least, assuming you eat the food I prepared you.”

“Oh, I almost forgot!” You grabbed the plate, leaning over to peck his forehead. “Thank you, love. It looks wonderful.” 

Frederick stayed with you the rest of the evening, making sure you took proper care of yourself and Morgan while trying to get a little work done. Of course, that came to an end when you pointed out a cluster of broccolis looked just like one of the ducklings from the video.

And the waterworks returned full force.


	26. Reds and Whites (Modern AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you accidentally mixed up Frederick's laundry and may have given him a dashing new shirt color.

“Robin?” You heard your husband call your name from the laundry room, only twenty minutes away from leaving for work. You glanced out of the kitchen where you were brewing coffee for the both of you, wondering why he sounded so distressed.

“I’m right here, Frederick.” You replied loud enough so he could hear you, and his head poked out from the doorway. His brow was more furrowed than usual, which meant you may or may not be in a spot of trouble.

“Did you do the laundry last night?” He asked you seriously, and you nodded, recalling a sluggish evening of late night cramming to get all your deadlines in. The laundry needed to be done so Frederick would have something to wear to work tomorrow, so you got to it.

“Yes, I did. You should have a shirt to wear for today, I did all the whites. Is there...something wrong?” You asked the follow up when you saw how displeased he looked, and you could tell he was restraining himself. Slowly, he lifted his hand from behind the frame to reveal a shirt. ...A pink shirt.

And in the other, there was a bright red sock.

“Would you care to explain why all my dress shirts have been dyed pink, this morning?” He asked you with the cold smile that would send shivers of fear spiking through any and all people. You grinned sheepishly, realizing you’d made quite the mistake.

“I’m sorry, Frederick! I didn’t realize that I’d tossed that in there with the shirts, I could’ve sworn it was just whites! It must’ve been wrapped up in one of the shirts while I was tossing stuff in last night.” You attempted to reason, making Frederick sigh and walk out of the room towards you, the pink article of clothing grasped tightly in his hand.

“How many times have I told you to shake out all the clothes individually before putting them in the washing machine? Surely it should be stuck in your head by now.” He tapped your forehead, making you blink rapidly and shrink a touch under his disapproving gaze.

“I’m sorry, love. I really am, I just-- I was so tired last night, I wasn’t thinking, I just knew you needed to get some clothes to wear and… God, I’m really sorry, Frederick.” You apologized, looking down at your feet in an attempt to hide your blush.

He sighed again, resting a hand on his hip. “It’s...fine, Robin. There’s no use trying to fix it now. I suppose I’ll just have to make do with what I have.” He decided, walking away from you to try and make himself look professional, despite the impending pinkness.

You watched him leave, biting your lip to retain your shame. You had to make this up to him later, lest he be even more upset with you when he came home. You made a mental note to stop by the Emblem department store to pick up a few new shirts. He’d been asking for some, anyways.

You returned your attention to the breakfast counter, grabbing some eggs to try and scramble them together so he had something decent to eat. Had to prepare the man for his undoubtedly terrible day that was ahead. His bosses Chrom and Lissa had a knack for teasing him.

“Well, I hope you’re happy.” You heard Frederick’s voice from the bedroom, just as the eggs were delivered to a plate and the coffee poured into a cup. You turned to face your husband and offer another apology, but you stopped short.

“Actually...I’m very happy.” You replied, making him frown deeply and give you the you-better-not-be-serious look. But you were quick to defend yourself, adding, “That color is really nice on you! I mean, frankly, you look rather dashing in it.”

The shirt paired with a sleek, dark gray suit and matching ribbon made for quite the handsome combination for your husband. He stared at you for a second before clearing his throat, adjusting his necktie and averting his gaze.

“You’re just saying that to make up for the mistake.” He responded, but you shook your head, walking up to him with a shining grin on your lips.

“I’m serious! You look really good. As in, really really good.” You assured him, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to match his height. “You should wear it more often.”

“Thanks to your little antics I might have to.” He replied, his hand shoved in the pocket of his jacket while the other wrapped around your waist. “If I get made fun of at work for wearing this, I’ll know your little compliments were a lie.”

“If you get made fun of at work, then I’ll let you get revenge on me however you like when you get home.” You promised him, making him quirk an eyebrow. “And yes, I do mean however you like.”

“In that case, you best prepare for another long night, my sweet.” He leaned down, pressing his lips against your sin a rather tantalizing, suggestive smooch that hinted what was to come.

You never looked forward to Chrom and Lissa’s banter so much in your entire life.


	27. Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick misunderstands a situation that almost costs him your love. Luckily you like him too much to let him get away.

He shouldn’t have turned back. Gods know he should have just kept walking and let someone else pick that log up. Maybe then he could’ve kept his fantasies. Kept his dream that maybe, one day you would know his feelings. That maybe he’d confess to you and you’d return his affections.

Those hopes were dashed in a single instant.

Frederick carried another load of firewood to camp, log count much higher than usual. The bitter cold of Feroxi’s winter meant they’d need bigger fires. He certainly wasn’t complaining, save for the stray logs that slipped away. He sighed when another dropped, wondering if it was worth the trouble to pick it up.

 _‘I will have to pick it up later, regardless.’_ He thought to himself, pausing his work to retrieve the wood, _‘It must be put to use. Aside from that someone could be caught unawares and fall.’_ He stooped down to pick it up, proud knowing crisis had been averted. That’s when he saw it.

Prince Chrom was standing with you, rather close. He leaned forward, hand coming up to your cheek. Frederick froze; why was Lord Chrom touching you in such a way? The thought barely transferred before the blunette’s face touched yours. 

He kissed you.

 _‘By the gods--!’_ A bright red blush rose on his cheeks, embarrassed by what he’d seen. But more importantly, he was heartbroken. He just saw you kiss. The woman he fell in love with.

Had you just accepted a kiss from Chrom? That couldn’t be possible. _‘There’s no way she just allowed him to kiss her…! After everything we’ve been through together, everything we’ve said, certainly it wasn’t all meaningless!’_

The argument seemed void in his mind at the scene displayed before him. The witty banter, flirtatious comments slipped between notes on his desk, flickers of something warm in your eyes. The smiles, the laughter, the sparks...were those all simple exchanges between friends?

 _‘It couldn’t possibly be… Robin would never string me along, it’s not in her nature.’_ He argued with himself, recalling the same mental argument he’d had when he planned to confess to you many moons ago. You’d fallen asleep at the desk before he even got the words out, and planned to save his confession for another time. It seemed he waited to long.

Frederick grunted, watching the pair kid around with each other. How long had this been going on? Since when did you and Chrom have something going? Why didn’t you say anything to him? Warn him, at least? He completely lost it when you turned, a flash of your face revealing a blush on your cheeks.

The log in his hands snapped.

That gave him away; both adults swiveled to look at him, you having jumped at the powerful sound of a chunk of wood being broken by his hands. Chrom seemed surprised by the sudden display of strength, an amused quirk of his lips reaching Frederick’s line of sight.

That smirk stole his kiss.

“Frederick? What in the world are you doing over there? And why did you just break a log in half? We all know how powerful you are, no need to show it off.” Chrom chuckled. Frederick’s blush grew worse, which you noticed when he failed to meet your gaze.

“I-I...it’s nothing, Milord. I thought I...saw something, or… P-please excuse me, I didn’t mean to intrude.” His rushed response only made your stare grow stronger, the pressure nearly breaking the man who could break logs with his bare hands.

“Intrude? Hardly, we were just having a friendly conversation, it’s nothing to apologize...for…?” The knight was already gone. You watched him leave, he could feel it when he marched as far from the scene as possible. His heart was already broken, need you rub it in already?

He didn’t bother responding when you called his name, abandoning the firewood and striding for the only safe place he could think of; his tent. At least no one would bother him there, and he could revel in the silence while he mulled over what just happened. No one would see his heart be crushed further, by his own hand. 

Or so he thought.

* * *

“Well, that was strange.” Chrom stated, oblivious as usual. You made a noncommittal sound, staring at the spot Frederick had been standing in only moments ago. Splinters of wood had decorated the powdery snow, and your brow furrowed. Why in the world would he just snap a log in two? It seemed completely out of place.

“I wonder why he would do something like that.” You murmured, “He didn’t even acknowledge me. He always says something when I speak to him.”

“I know; he always lights up whenever he sees you.” He quirked an eyebrow when you blushed, “Come on, I might be oblivious but even I can tell that he cares for you.”

“T-that’s all well and good, but… What do you want me to do about it?” You fiddled with the hem of your coat, knowing full well that he fancied you as much as you did. You just had yet to say anything. Though in your defense, he was in the same boat.

“Go see what’s wrong with him, of course.” Chrom chuckled. “If anyone can solve his problem, it’s you.” He continued, and you managed a nod. “Hurry, before he gets away.”

“Right.” You smiled briefly before making your own escape to find the knight before he got too far. Despite doing as Chrom said, you couldn’t help but wonder why Frederick would suddenly be so upset. He had walked past when Chrom was helping you, making sure you were alright.

It’d been a long, late night, and it clearly showed; the dark bags under your eyes had drawn the attention of the prince, who immediately rebuked you for spending so much time awake. You were dizzy, you’d definitely felt better, and you weren’t in any state to be working so hard.

His thumbs brushed under your eyes, concerned for your well being more than you were. It was at that point you heard a log snap, and then he disappeared. It just didn’t make any sense.

You turned the corner, rounding the tents to catch a glimpse of Frederick’s armor disappearing inside another tent. 

“Frederick! Wait a-- agh!!” Your foot caught on a rather painful stack of wood, its cart missing the lieutenant that dragged it into the center of camp. “Ow...gods!” 

Your foot stung and there were pieces of wood covering your hands and clothes, but you were more interested in the man who disappeared. You pushed up from the snowy ground and tried to run to his tent. For some reason, you felt extremely dizzy. That wasn’t something to worry about now, though.

“Er...Frederick?” You asked in a small voice, wondering how bad the damage was. There was a quiet rustling inside, but still no response. “I was hoping I could talk to you.”

“Beg pardon, milady.” A voice came from inside, but didn’t hold the same firmness you were used to. You heard a sigh inside before the sound of movement. The tent flap was pulled aside a moment later, the knight’s stern visage towering over you. The cold expression had your lips tug into a frown. “If I had...interrupted you, I apologize. Tis not my place to oversee your..affairs.” 

“Ah-- actually, it’s just that. I don’t understand why, but...you’re upset. Is there anything I can do? I think you-” 

“And what _do_ I think, milady? That you were sharing an intimate moment with milord? “He replied, somewhat more hostile than what you were expecting. This must have shown, for the knight quickly looked away and cleared his throat at his impertinence. “In any case, It is late; we best prepare for tomorrow’s campaign.” 

“An intimate moment? F-Frederick, what are you talking about?” 

“You needn’t feign ignorance, Robin. I am referring to the way Lord Chrom held you moments ago. If I’m not mistaken, such affections are reserved for those who care...deeply, for one another.” Frederick retorted, a bitterness left in his voice that was new for someone so level headed. “That being said, I would like to wish you the utmost happiness in your relationship. Milord is sure to treat you well.”

“Wait a minute, w-wait. What do you mean? Chrom wasn’t holding me, well, not like that.” You corrected him, but he seemed disinterested in your words.   
He began to turn away from you, and that’s what sent the sliver of panic running through your chest, frustration pounding in your already muddled head. It almost made you feel dizzy, unsteady. “Frederick, please, nothing is going on! B-besides, why would I be with Chrom when I’ve already…” 

You paused, vision blurring. That wasn’t right. 

“W-when I’ve already…”

“Robin?” Frederick glanced at you, just in time to see you sway dangerously towards the ground. 

“I’ve...already-”

“--Robin!” Frederick on reflex catches you before you fall, keeping you held and standing. After you are on your feet again after your dizzy spell he brings his hands up and cups your face, his thumbs tracing under your heavy eyes. “Milady, are you well?” He asks, brow furrowed with worry. 

“Y-yeah...ngh, yes, I’m fine.” You nodded, steadying yourself against his chest. Before he could reply, in the distance the man heard a low whistle.

“Would ya look at that! Who knew Sir Tight Pants had it in him?” Gaius mused with a rather pleased expression. 

“What are you on about, thief?” The response made Gaius chuckle, arms folded as he watched the scene with increasing interest.

“Don’t play dumb, now. I just saw you plant a hot one right on Bubbles’ mouth! You can’t deny it, either.” 

Frederick’s brow arched as he looked toward the mischievous redhead, more concerned with the unstable woman leaning against him. “I did nothing of the sort!”

The nerve of that thief! Frederick glared at him. How could he mistake his intentions for something so inappropriate? He’d only held your face to look over you, and make sure you were all right. How could he possibly mistaken that for-

_‘...Oh.’_

Suddenly the realization clicked and he looked back to you and the situation he was left in. A subtle tint came across his cheeks, clearing his throat and holding you up with a bit more distance between you. He’d seen this before, only moments ago. Perhaps you HADN’T been lying about Chrom, after all.

“Ahem...milady, perhaps it is best you come inside.” He murmured, stepping aside and leading her into his tent, a hand resting on her back at the off chance that she would fall again.

Frederick settled you on his cot to rest. In the light of his tent Frederick could see the state you were in, the dampness of your coat where you fell in the snow and the specks of wood, giving you quite the disheveled appearance. 

_‘To think she’s strained herself so terribly for my sake.’_ Frederick thought with a grimace. He knelt at the bedside and took your hands in his, looking her palms over. The sight of the small splinters on your frigid hands made his frown worsen. He huffed gently to himself and rose, fetching his medical kit and returning to your side. 

“I… Forgive me, milady. I see now that I was mistaken to make such hasty accusations.” He continued, his tone softer now as he cleaned your hands gently. “To think so blindly,well..Such nature ill befits a knight, does it not?” 

You watched as he patched up your hand, mind still hazy and having a hard time focusing. You managed to shake your head, replying half-heartedly, “No, no, don’t blame yourself… It was an honest mistake, I understand.” 

“It behooves me as a knight that I keep a rational mind, especially one that concerns with Lord Chrom. To think that… Bah, it matters not. What does is that I jumped to conclusions.” Just then Frederick paused in his cleaning, holding your hands in his. The moment made your heart beat a little quicker, and you fell silent at his next words. “You have my most sincere apologies, Robin.” 

“Frederick…” You breathed, touched that he would humble himself in such a way. You couldn’t help the sleepy smile that crossed your lips, and you gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s all right, you’re forgiven. ...Always.”

Frederick couldn’t help staring at you, the single word whispered speaking volumes to the cold lieutenant. He didn’t allow himself to linger, averting his gaze with a clearing of his throat. “Yes, well, in any case I will go and consult Libra about your current state; perhaps he can supply a remedy. Meanwhile, I’d like for you stay here and rest for the time being.”

“I suppose I have no choice, considering my limbs have forgotten how to move.” You joked lightly, leaning back against the cot. He nodded curtly, heading for the tent opening. But he was stopped by the sudden tug of your hand, still linked to his. “Oh, but before you go, I...um…”

He turned when you trailed off, “...Yes?” He asked softly, the gentle nudge giving you the courage to continue.

“I realize that I didn’t get the opportunity to finish my explanation from before.” You responded, the slight coloring of your cheeks piquing his interest. 

“And what would that be, milady?” 

“It’s just that… W-what I meant to say was…

“Why would I be with Chrom when I’ve already fallen in love with you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woof, it's been a little while, hasn't it? lol  
> I've got a few other stories I want to stuff in here  
> as well as some bonus stories I haven't written on my Tumblr  
> so I figured I'd go ahead and try to spoil you guys some more ;0


	28. Second Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin tells Frederick she's expecting their second child...and all of the questions and fears that it comes with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! W o o h o o :D

“Frederick, I need to talk to you.” That phrase tended to have several connotations, Frederick noticed, as he looked up from the desk he was currently sharing with Morgan. While he was working on very important paperwork, his son had very important doodles to tend to.

That came to a halt when he noticed the uncomfortable expression you wore. Frederick’s brow furrowed, setting his quill aside. “Is something amiss, my love?”

You smiled weakly, managing a shrug. “I- well, it’s...I’m not sure. Could you come with me for a moment?” You asked him, gesturing to follow you into the bedroom. Frederick nodded, quick to rise from his seat. Morgan watched curiously, at least until Frederick planted a kiss on his forehead and elicited a giggle from the little one.

“Keep working hard, son. I’ll be right back.” He promised, before trailing after you. Whatever this was about, he wasn’t sure he liked how serious your demeanor had become. That didn’t bode well.

The door was shut behind him when he came into the room, finding you standing by the window with a very stiff, awkward posture. Your arms were crossed tight, tension incredibly obvious.

“What’s the matter, Robin? Did something happen?” He asked with caution, approaching you carefully. You bit your lip, heat rising on your cheeks. As if he wasn’t confused enough.

“W-well, that meeting I went to this morning was actually a consultation with Libra.” You began, looking up at him apologetically. “I didn’t want to worry you, because I wasn’t sure if how I was feeling was something serious, or not.”

“How you were feeling?” He repeated with a frown. “Have you been unwell? That can’t be, surely I would’ve noticed if you were under the weather.”

“And I’m sure you’re right,” You agreed, “Which is why I didn’t want to bother you- if it was something truly serious, you would’ve picked up on it. Besides, if it was nothing, then there’d be no point in telling you.”

“I suppose you have a point, but if you’re going to speak with Libra about medical concerns, it’s very important to me that I know.” Frederick responded, looking very serious as he took your hands in his. “Gods forbid something happen to you now, after everything. You know I couldn’t stand to lose you again, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” You assured him, giving his hands a squeeze. “B-but it wasn’t _that_ kind of conversation. You see, I’ve...I haven’t had my cycle in a few weeks. It appears that I’m late, again.” You explained, “And the nausea, the dizzyness, it’s all coming back. I-I wasn’t sure if it was possible or not, but when I told Libra about all those symptoms, he confirmed that I’m with child, again.”

Frederick froze.

“...You’re…?” He couldn’t find the words to speak. His heart beat a mile a minute, staring at you with wide eyes. “Y-you’re with child?”

“Three weeks.” You confirmed, smiling at him. Frederick sank onto the bed, eyes never leaving yours.

“I can’t believe it. W-we’re having a baby!”

“I couldn’t believe it, either. But mainly because of Morgan.” You informed him, coming to sit beside him. Frederick paused, regarding you curiously amidst the utter euphoria currently pouring into his system.

“Morgan?”

“I mean, only he came to us from the future, remember?” You reminded him with a frown, looking to your hands. Frederick nodded, briefly recalling the sheer delight he’d felt when they met their future son.

“Perhaps in this timeline, we’ve been blessed enough to have a second one.” Frederick figured, the amount of joy in his eyes being enough to make your smile return. 

“That’s what I thought, but then I got to thinking, and I...well, I just had a terrible thought.” You said seriously, absentmindedly dropping a hand to your middle. “If we’re to have two children here, what if we had two in Morgan’s time, as well? What if...what if something _happened_ to the other one?”

“Oh.” Frederick’s happiness came to a standstill. That was entirely a possibility, one that bore much more sadness than he wanted to think of. What if Morgan’s sibling had been in the future, as well?

“What if they were alive in that time too, but Grima took them? O-or what if they came to our time as well, but we never found them? What if they sacrificed themselves so Morgan could make it, or-” You stopped, swallowing thickly. “What if they’re never born?”

“Come again?”

“I mean,” You began to explain, shakily, “What if the baby doesn’t make it? Lucina never told us about another child. W-what if there was a miscarriage, or-”

“Absolutely not.” Frederick interrupted you. “That won’t happen.” 

“Frederick-”

“There’s no way in all hells you would have a miscarriage. Frankly I’m shocked you would even think of such a thing.” He sounded upset. You frowned deeply, looking away.

“I-I just couldn’t help thinking about it- why would we have another child now, but only one in the future?”

“I don’t know.” Frederick admitted, and it was then that you looked up at him. You found there was a sadness in his eyes. That you would consider such a thing hurt him. “But that’s the last thing we should worry about, Robin. It bodes ill for the child if instead of celebrating, you imagine its death.”

“I know that! But I just...i-it started to bother me, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I want to be happy, but...but the thought of something happening to them makes me feel afraid.” You confessed. Frederick pursed his lips, watching you struggle to explain this to him. 

“My love,” He began slowly, taking your hand in his, “You shouldn’t worry about the hypothetical. That was your duty during war, but not here. In this timeline, things are different; perhaps that’s why we’ve been graced with another little one. That is the way we should view it.”

“B-but if they really are out there, then-”

“It is impossible to know if that is really the case, and it saddens me you would think of such a thing. Please, Robin,” He reached out, cupping your cheek, “Don’t think like that. Even if something does occur, we’ll handle it when the time comes. But no matter what happens, everything will be fine, so- let’s think about the good for a change.”

“The good?” You echoed. Frederick kissed your forehead, giving you a smile so warm it melted your heart.

“Yes. Like the fact that we’ve another baby on the way.” He said softly, his voice laced with excitement as his fingers grazed your stomach. “Aren’t you happy?”

“O-of course I am.” You replied, willing away your worries. Frederick was right; it would do you good to think differently than how you normally did. “I’m so happy.”

“Then we can worry later. For now, let’s celebrate.” He murmured, giving you a gentle kiss. “We could start by telling Morgan. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to know he’ll be a big brother.”

“Oh, you’re right.” You giggled, feeling the tension ebb away. You squeezed Frederick’s hands as he lifted you up, that excitement you felt when Libra first told you finally returning. “No doubt he’ll be excited.”

“Though I doubt he’ll be anywhere near as elated as myself.” Frederick mused, gathering you up in his arms before you could even think to walk away. 

“Frederick!!”

“We’re having a baby!” He chuckled, holding you tight. “Gods, I’m so excited.”

“Careful,” You mused, pulling away to look at him, “You might frighten Morgan with all that energy.”

“Nonsense.” He brushed you off with a grin. “He’ll be just as happy as I am.”

He wasn’t wrong; the joyfulness that exploded inside Morgan when you told him quite possibly rivaled Frederick’s, not that any of you minded. Their happiness made all your worries fade away, coming to appreciate the little one growing inside you.

A little girl who you all welcomed into the world thirty-five weeks later, who was the spitting image of her father. It was as if you hadn’t a worry in the world, now that you had your precious little girl (that Frederick and Morgan swore to protect from all “icky boys” for her whole life).

Your little Marc.


	29. The Other Husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An enemy mage uses a special magic that draws out a traumatic memory to paralyze them; for Robin, it not only traumatizes her, but runs over her all over again as it's a memory long forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a new tumblr!! Go request more fred stories over there if you want! OR just any other FE 13/14/15 character, lolol  
> https://tacticianfiction.tumblr.com/

You knew mages were powerful; more so than you in countless ways. You knew they could be dangerous to the body and mind, but you never fathomed how much.

Not until the battle. All you were thinking about was how you were going to neutralize the opponent.

Your eyes locked with the mage’s. You saw into each other. Adrenaline flowed through your veins. Magic crackled between your fingers. Your arm raised.

You didn’t remember closing your eyes. But when they opened, you weren’t on the battlefield anymore. And you weren’t fighting; you were running.

* * *

_“Robin!!” A man called. It made your heart leap- you knew his voice. You looked around, dazed. “Robin, run!!”_

_“Regis…?” You said a name, uncertain. That was his name. You stared, searching for him. Then a hand grabbed your wrist, yanking you towards him._

_“Robin, go! We don’t have time!!” His voice strained, pushing you. “They’re coming- you have to run!”_

_“What are you going to do?” You asked. It felt like something you’d said before. You looked at the scenery that burst past- you’d been here, before._

_“I’ll go with you to the edge of the border. I’ll hold them off until you’re past the lines, and from there, you escape. You’ll be safe.”_

_“W-what about you?” Your question trembled. You felt his hand tighten on yours. He pulled you faster._

_“You’ll be safe.” He echoed. A sinking feeling grew in your chest._

_“Regis,” You spoke his name, softer. Your voice wavered. “You’re coming with me.”_

_He didn’t respond. “Regis, you’re coming with me.”_

_“Your father is coming. We have to go faster.”_

_“Regis, please.” You were in tears. “Come with me.”_

_“Oh, my love.” He called you. Your heart leapt. “I wish I could.”_

_My love. My love. My love._

_“There they are!!” You heard a woman’s voice, her voice sounding just like yours. Regis’ gaze hardened, and he pushed you forward._

_“We’re out of time! Go!!” He ordered, but not before you grabbed him and whipped him around. He looked at you with eyes full of longing, and regret. He gathered you in his arms, pressing his lips to yours in a crushing, desperate kiss._

_“Regis-”_

_“I love you.” He whispered. Then his hands were gone from your body, and he broke away, drawing his sword and engaging in the onslaught that came. “RUN!!”_

_There were tears in your eyes. You tried desperately to do as you were told. Your legs were shaking and your body no longer functioning, yet you had to run. All you wanted was to stay with your husband._

_“Regis…” You sobbed, sprinting away from the battle. All you heard was the sound of swords clanking against swords, and then an explosion of magic. Regis’ cry._

_“NO!!”_

* * *

Frederick was in the middle of dispatching a battalion when he heard you scream. He froze, eyes growing wide.

“Robin?” He scanned the battlefield frantically, feeling his heart drop. “Robin?!”

_“NO!!”_

Hebert was galloping in a matter of seconds. Frederick scanned the sea of soldiers in a frenzy, following your cries.

“Robin, where are you?!” He shouted over the throngs of men, an unimaginable fear sweeping over him in the midst of chaos.

“MY HUSBAND!” He heard you, in what he thought was your response.

He spurred forward, catching sight of your coat. He forced his way through, seeing you on the ground, curled up and cradling your head. You were screaming, tears streaking down your face. A mage stood over you with a wicked grin, ready to kill. That was all he needed to see red.

“PICK A GOD AND PRAY!!” Frederick’s hand moved of its own accord, javelin whistling through the air and slicing through his neck before he could even touch you.

“Robin!!” He cried, dropping from his horse and grabbing your shoulders, forcing you to look at him, “Robin, I’m here!”

“My husband!!” You sobbed, your eyes wild and unfocused. He stared at you, how pale your face had become, how you shook and cried. “My husband, my husband- save him--”

“Robin, I’m here!” He urged you, grasping your face and forcing your eyes to meet his, “Look at me, I’m here! I’m all right, are- are you?”

You couldn’t form a response. Frederick growled; you must have been possessed by that mage. You were in no condition to fight. He lifted you and mounted Hebert quickly.

There was no time to lose.

“My husband- s-someone please, save him!!” You wailed, clutching onto Frederick as he rushed you to the healers.

“Hold on, Robin. Just hold on- everything will be fine, I promise!”

“My h-husband...” You whimpered.

“I’m here. I’ll always be-”

“My Regis…!”

His heart paused at the foreign name on your lips. It was the last word you spoke before you passed out, unconscious in his arms.

_‘My Regis?’_

* * *

Libra and Maribelle brought you to camp, while Frederick returned to battle to finish off the rest. As soon as it was over, he went to the healing tent in search of good news. His hands wrung anxiously when Libra approached, beckoning for Frederick to follow him outside.

“How is she? Is she all right?” He asked first, the only thing he could think of. Libra nodded slowly, lips drawn in a thin line.

“She will be fine. Though she is quite shaken; I recommend you approach her very cautiously, Sir Frederick. What happened to her...she wasn’t possessed. She was in shock.”

Frederick blinked. “Shock?”

“That mage used a special type of magic; one that stuns the enemy by manipulating their minds, forcing them to relive a traumatic event. Robin’s amnesia made it more effective; it was her first time experiencing it, and simultaneously reliving it all over again.”

“He unlocked her memory?” He breathed, shocked at the revelation. Libra nodded again, looking troubled. Frederick had begun to piece things together, himself. “Then...those words she spoke. That name.”

“She was moaning about a man named Regis.” Libra confirmed, “She’s come out of her stupor, thankfully, but it’s safe to assume that this man is the cause of her trauma.”

“Robin kept saying ‘save him’. ‘Save my husband’.” Frederick spoke in a quiet voice. Libra could feel the crumbling heart behind his tone. “This man- s-she had been married before me. She loved another, and I-”

“You did nothing wrong, Frederick. You couldn’t have known.” Libra stopped him from saying anymore, a hand on Frederick’s shoulder. “Go- speak to her. Try and find some answers, and maybe help ease her troubles, if you can.”

Frederick departed silently, walking back to the healing tent unsure. He wasn’t certain if you wanted to see him- learning you were married before and crying for him was rattling.

Seeing you on the cot, back to him, made his worries grow. Silently he approached, eying your stooped form warily. You hugged your sides, gaze transfixed to the canvas. You only turned after he cleared his throat, awkwardly catching your attention.

“Robin,” He greeted you softly, “How...how do you feel?”

“...I don’t know.” Your response strained. “The mage who attacked me...w-what he did…”

“He restored your memory.” Frederick explained. “A spell that forced you to relive a trauma in order to disable you. Whatever you saw served its purpose, it would seem.”

“What I saw…” You began to shake. Frederick came beside you, lifting an uncertain hand to comfort you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, and for a moment, you didn’t speak. He feared he brought back the terrible memory, that you would draw away, but instead you nodded.

You swallowed thickly before speaking. “I was running. There was a man helping me escape from the Grimleal. T-they were going to take me away, but the man- m-my husband, Regis- he got me away in time.”

“Your husband.” Frederick repeated in a whisper, a breath that anyone would have missed. You nodded, hiccuping as the tears began to slip from your eyes. “Is...is he still alive? Did he escape with you?”

“He…” You choked out a sob. “O-oh, Frederick, I wanted him to. I-I begged him to, but he- h-he took on the Grimleal alone. H-he died, Frederick. He died for me-!”

You broke down. Frederick brought you into him, pulling you into a tight embrace as you cried. You buried your face in his chest, grasping his vest that hot tears stained.

“And I forgot him! H-he saved my life and he loved me and I- g-gods…!”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Frederick murmured, stroking your back. He cradled you close, rocking you gently as you grieved. “It’s all right. Shh...it wasn’t your fault.”

All he could do was hold you as you cried. He didn’t know how long you stayed with him, but you fell asleep in his arms, crying to exhaustion. Frederick gingerly lowered you into the cot, pulling the blankets over you without a word. His hand brushed your cheek, pushing away the tears that lingered on your skin.

You were heartbroken. He needed to find a way to fix it.

* * *

When you woke the next morning, you felt numb. Your eyes burned and your throat was raw, crying having drained you of all energy. You didn’t want to move, or think. All that could come to your mind was Regis’ face.

Your husband sacrificed himself for you. The pain of the last kiss, of knowing he was gone, and the guilt of having forgotten it all; it tore you apart.

You had barely shifted in the bedding before the tent flap opened, and you were greeted with the cautious smile on Frederick’s face.

“Good morning, Robin.” He approached you in a careful manner, holding a steaming bowl that smelled amazing. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” You managed, watching as he sat down beside you, handing you the bowl as you pushed yourself up.

“Perhaps this will help, then. I made you breakfast personally, this morning. It’s your favorite.” He replied with a smile, which you wanted to return. Instead you slowly took the spoon and began to feed yourself, giving only a hum or two as you ate.

“Thank you.” Your response was clipped, but had more life to it than anything you’d said after the attack.

“Think nothing of it. I thought it was the least I could do to help you recover. Although, there is one other thing I would like to show you. It isn’t much, either, but...I was hoping you would be willing to join me for a walk, this morning.”

“A walk?” Your brow furrowed, the spoon falling into the bowl, again. “I don’t know…”

“It won’t be a long one, I assure you.” He hastily added, placing his hand over yours, “But I would greatly appreciate it if you would accompany me. Just for a little while.”

Reluctantly you agreed, allowing Frederick to help you out of the cot and lead you from the tent. You followed along silently, listening as he made idle chatter. It took you a few minutes before you realized this walk was leading you somewhere specific.

Then you spotted the stone marker that was nestled in the middle of the clearing. You looked up at Frederick, finding a small smile on his lips.

“...What is this?” You questioned, looking at the carefully placed stones that built up to a monument no higher than your knees. Atop the marker was a small flame, a torch very carefully lit to act as a makeshift candle, like one that would be left on a shrine for the dead.

“When you told me that you had been married before...although indirectly, it was still shocking. I didn’t know what to think, as I’m sure you did. Was he a good man? I feared, myself, that the traumatic memory had been this man hurting you. However, that was hardly the case.”

You looked down at the marker, unable to speak. Frederick continued, leading you closer to the little monument.

“I thought long and hard about what happened, all night. I couldn’t sleep, knowing that you were in such pain, and that you felt so strongly about this man’s actions. The fact that he saved your life means so much to me. If not for him, you wouldn’t be here, now. And I could not allow his actions to go unnoticed.”

“So you...you made this?”

“He deserved a proper tribute. I wanted to pay my respects, and give you something. I don’t think he would want you to regret his actions. I wish to build a better one once this war is over, and we’re home, but...I thought this would do, for now. So, if I may...”

You could only watch as he knelt before the makeshift grave, unsheathing his sword and burying the tip of its blade in the ground. Frederick bowed his head, taking a pregnant pause before speaking again.

“Sir Regis...I owe you so much. You sacrificed yourself to protect the woman you love; something so honorable I can hardly fathom it. I can do little more than give my undying gratitude...and the promise that I will do all I can to protect Robin’s life with all the love and strength as you did.”

“Frederick…” You breathed, his final prayers and vows spoken with as much passion as the rest. You came to kneel beside him, looking at the flame flickering over you. “You did all this for me? F-for him?”

“I wish I could do more.” He replied with a sigh, looking back to you. “If it weren’t for him, you would not be with me, now. I owe this man a great debt. There is nothing I desire more than to see you safe, and loved, as he clearly did.”

“Oh, love.” You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck to hide the tears that just refused to stop. “F-Frederick, you’ve done so much for me. I know that Regis would be so glad that I found you...e-even if it’s through the worst circumstances. I just...thank you, Frederick. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek, holding you close. “I’ll do all I can to honor his memory. For both you, and him.” He promised you, stroking your hair tenderly.

You beamed at him when you pulled away, cupping his cheek with a steady, warm hand. “I… Thank you…”


	30. I Thought I Lost You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't ever want to let you out of his sight now that you're back home. The one time he does, his fears of the worst come to fruition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy welcome to angst town
> 
> You can always request more at your local tumblr blog here: tacticianfiction.tumblr.com !!

The trip to Regna Ferox was supposed to last only a few days. Frederick was left behind in favor of a small caravan, with assurance that Robin and Chrom could protect each other, Lon’qu had Lissa and vice versa, and Raimi would escort you back past the Feroxi border.

Sumia had been asked to stay behind, with Frederick there to help her with the extra royal duties she now had alongside her own. Neither of them were happy about being left behind, but Frederick most of all; how was he supposed to protect you when you were miles away?

He didn’t want you anywhere away from him, especially when he couldn’t see you. He could survive training days when you were in meetings and he with new recruits, but days apart? It reminded him too much of the cold loneliness of when you were gone.

It had only been six months since then. Too soon for you to not be by his side. Even if you promised him you’d be all right, he didn’t like the thought of you being gone without him. The ominous stirring in his chest agreed.

* * *

“Sir Frederick?” Sumia’s gentle voice called from his office by the courtyard, where the new trainees had just been brutally inducted into the castle’s royal guard. He looked up from his work only to nod, before burying his face in his work once again.

“Queen Sumia,” He said cordially, “It is un-queenly for you to be visiting me, here. Is there something pressing you wish to discuss?”

“I would like to think your health is quite important, but you tend to believe otherwise.” She said with a hint of amusement. He sighed softly, leaning back from his work. The papers had stacked up since you had returned home, yet even six months proved not enough to recover from the workload (in his defense, you’d been plenty distracting).

“I can assure you that I am in top form, milady. I have never been healthier.” He replied, only to find the queen’s hand on his shoulder.

“You’re more tense than you were during the wartimes, Frederick. It’s clear to everybody you’ve been severely stressed the last couple days. Is everything all right?”

“...Here, yes. Elsewhere...I am unsure.” He admitted, setting his quill aside. Sumia smiled knowingly.

“You’re that worried about Robin being away, hm?” 

He would have smiled, albeit minutely, if he hadn’t felt so uncomfortable. “Is it wrong to feel so strongly about her absence?”

“I don’t think so, not in your case. You’ve been without her long enough, I suppose. If it helps, I tried to convince Chrom to let you come along.” She offered. The knight shook his head, looking back to his work.

“I doubt he would have let me even if he wanted to. I’ve fallen behind in my work to an embarrassing degree. I’m sure he’s received complaints.” He said sheepishly. Sumia giggled.

“Well, I thought it would do you good to take a break and put your worries to rest. Why don’t you ride out and meet everyone? Help ‘escort’ them back?”

He felt a twinge of hope at her suggestion, but did his best to shove his anxieties down his throat over the more pressing duties. “I couldn’t, milady. As much as I’d like to I’m sure Lord Chrom had me here for a reason and I-”

“Consider it a direct order from the queen.” She said with a wink. For the first time since you’d left, he smiled.

“Thank you, milady.” He sounded more relieved than intended.

“Leave as quickly as you can. The sooner you meet up with them, the better.” With a swift bow and soft thank you, Frederick hurried for the stables. He mounted Hebert without a second thought and headed out. 

And then, he was alone on the road. The wooded path was quiet; devoid of even the smallest birds’ chirping. He didn’t think much of it, focused on finding the caravan. It took him another twenty minutes of riding to realize that, maybe, something was amiss.

He should have spotted the caravan by now, surely. There was no way he’d missed it. His brow furrowed, feeling an ominous foreboding growing in his chest. He knew better than to assume the worst. Everything had been fine and well the last few months. What cause for concern was there, he asked himself.

It was at that moment he saw bodies on the ground. Several men strung across the path. Blood, everywhere.

Frederick forgot how to breathe.

“No…” He spurred Hebert forward, galloping towards the massacre. His eyes swept over it, praying to the gods he didn’t find the bodies of the Exalt or the princess, or worse. The ominous feeling in his chest swelled, his heart pounding. He dismounted, searching for you amongst the mess, when his foot fell on your coat.

“Oh, gods…” He choked, dropping to his knees and gathering the coat in his hands. “Robin…?”  
His brow furrowed. Where was its wearer? Had you been taken? Or had you been injured in your attempt to escape and abandoned the coat? ...Had he truly lost you?

It was when the last thought broke his heart that he heard the steel of a sword slashing down on him. Frederick snapped around, taking his axe and slamming it against the blade with such anger the metal split in two. He launched himself at the attacker, unaware of the tears blurring his vision until-

“Frederick, stop!!”

He froze at the sound of Lon’qu’s voice. Frederick looked down to find Lon’qu pinned beneath him, the axe above his head ready to chop Lon’qu’s off. 

“What the...Lon’qu?” He gasped, lowering the weapon. “W-what are you- what’s going on?”

“Get off me and I’ll tell you.” Lon’qu snapped, putting plenty of distance between himself and Frederick when the two split. “Renegades. There were at least a dozen- they attacked the caravan a few miles after Raimi left us.”

“W-where are the others?” He questioned next, managing to put together a full statement despite the unimaginable fear when he mentioned brigands. 

“They’re not far.” Lon’qu started back towards the brush, but not before Chrom popped up from the brush. “Speak of the devil.”

“All clear?” The Exalt spoke, before spotting his knight. “Frederick! What are you doing here?”

“Queen Sumia requested I come and meet you all, and escort you back to the castle. I-if I had known you’d be in danger I’d have met you much sooner-”

“You couldn’t have known, Frederick. But this is good; they stole one of our horses when they attacked. We’ll need yours to help pull us back.” Chrom said with far too relieved a smile. “Come- I’m sure Robin will be glad you’re here. She held the defense against them better than most of us.”

“Robin?” He echoed, relief crashing over him. You were alive. Thank the heavens, you were alive. He clutched the coat tightly, trailing along behind them. Lon’qu came to Lissa, his hand on her shoulder. The two leaned over the only person Frederick had yet to see. The relief vanished as suddenly as it came.

“Robin…!” His voice was more of a strangled choke than your name. He rushed to your side, your body laid carefully over the grass. An alarming amount of blood stained your pants leg, your face contorted with pain. Yet when you heard Frederick’s voice, you gave him a smile. 

“W-well, isn’t this a surprise?”

“By the gods, what happened?” Frederick, lifted you in his arms, “W-we must get you to the castle immediately- you need medical attention!”

“C’mon Feddybear, it’s just a scratch.” You tried to laugh him off. Frederick wouldn’t have it. He glared at you sharply, his jaw clenched tight. Your laughter died in your throat. “F-Frederick?”

“Don’t speak.” He silenced you coldly, hoisting you up and starting towards the caravan. “Princess Lissa, I need you to remain with Robin inside the carriage for the duration of the trip home. Lon’qu, get my horse secured with the other one. Lord Chrom, if you could assist him- we need to leave as soon as possible.”

“U-understood.” Was all Chrom managed, in a daze as he watched Frederick bark his orders while stowing you away carefully into the caravan. You could only stare as he settled you inside, directing Lissa to elevate your leg while he wrapped the wound with your coat in an effort to stop the bleeding. 

“Frederick, that’s too tight- it’s not bleeding that badly, anymore.”

“I’m not risking it.” He said curtly, “Refrain from moving as much as possible, both of you. Do nothing strenuous. We will return to Ylisstol shortly.” And then he shut the door.

You and Lissa shared a look. Quietly, she remarked, “I’ve never seen him do that, before. He must’ve been awfully worried.”

“I suppose I’ll find out soon.” You said with a sigh, peering out the window. He was mounting the carriage and taking the reins, insuring a safe trip back. You could see how rigid his body was, even with the armor. “Judging by how tense he is...I don’t think I want to.”

-

When you reached the castle you didn’t hear a peep from Frederick. He opened the door, lifted you into his arms once more and marched you straight to your quarters. Libra had been summoned on the way in, apparently, as he was ready and waiting when you arrived.

You watched as he paced behind Libra, who worked diligently despite the looming, angry presence behind him. He looked up at you with a questioning glance. You could only shrug with a smile as an apology.

“Frederick, are you feeling all right?” You asked in as light a tone as you could, “You’re frightening our healer.”

Frederick paused when you said this, looking down at you to find an impish smile on your lips. His gaze hardened when he realized that if he hadn’t arrived when he did, he may never have seen it, again. It faded when he failed to return it.

It was several more minutes of painstaking silence before Libra finally finished, securing the bandages around your thigh.

“Well, the good news is you’ll be up and about in a few days. The wound wasn’t as deep as I feared; you’ll want some salve to help ease the pain, but aside from that it looks like you will return to normal soon.” Libra announced. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve some other patients to tend to. Lon’qu was rather adamant about making sure Lissa was all right, as well.”

“Thank you, Libra.” You waved goodbye to the priest, Frederick disappearing from the room with him. You leaned back into your pillows, unsure how you felt about the coming storm. You knew you were to be scolded sooner or later, after all.

Yet, when he returned to the bedroom, he didn’t say a word. He took your coat from the chair, silent, not meeting your gaze. His shoulders were tense and rigid, like before. Stress was practically oozing from his body.

“Frederick, I’m all right.” You said quietly. “You heard Libra; I’ll be back to normal in a few days. Nothing to worry about.”

His frown deepened, but he still didn’t speak. He eyed the coat, frozen in place. Your heart sank, realizing this was far more serious than a scolding. Frederick seemed furious.

“You’re overreacting, love. Really, it’s okay. The brigands weren’t that strong- I just moved to protect Lissa and I was sloppy. That’s all this little nick was. So you don’t have to be so upset, all right?”

He turned away. His back faced you, and for a second you felt the room grow colder. You looked up at him warily.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? You can’t actually be upset with me over this, can you? I-it was an accident that I had no control over. You don’t think I did this on purpose, did you? ...Come on, Frederick, say something! Why won’t you-”

“Because I thought I lost you, dammit!” He exclaimed, snapping around to look at you. Your eyes widened, staring at him. At the fury that made his hands tremble. The fear.

“F-Frederick…”

“I thought I lost you.” He repeated, exhaling shakily. “I thought- when I rode up and I saw those men, and your coat, I thought you were gone. And there is nothing...nothing in this world more terrifying than the thought of losing you.”

When his eyes met yours, all you saw was a storm of grief. You covered your mouth with your hand. The realization that you had broken his heart again, was breaking yours. His shoulders sagged, his hand coming to his face.

“I knew something terrible was going to happen, and I knew I should have insisted I travel with you- but my shortcomings nearly cost me your life, again. Robin, I’ve already lost you once; very few are granted a second chance to be with the one they cherish above all others, and do you...do you honestly think I’d be lucky enough to have a third?”

You could only watch as he sank down on the bed beside you, the coat slipping from his fingers. Gingerly you reached out, touching his shoulder as if he were made of glass. As if the smallest ministration would break him.

His hand fell over yours, grasping it tightly. “I can’t lose you, again. I can’t. Seeing you on the ground like that- seeing the blood, i-it...I just...I…”

“I know.” You whispered. You pulled him to you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your head against his, his weight leaning against you with all the worry and exhaustion that had overtaken him. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, your lips touching the warm, wet tears that dripped silently. “I’m so sorry.”

Frederick nodded against you, shifting so that his arm came around you, holding you close. “I love you so, Robin. My heart aches with every moment we’re apart. I need you to stay with me...as long as you can.”

“I’ll be here forever. I promise.” You reached up, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry I frightened you. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” He murmured, touching his nose to yours. “I’ll protect you til the end of time. I don’t care what orders may belay me, I...I swear to you, I won’t leave your side, again.”

“Nor I, yours.” You promised him, pressing a kiss to his lips. He pushed against you, pulling you into his chest. You melted against him, feeling the silent desperation in his touch. You poured all the comfort you had into him, your love in every inch of your body into his.

When you finally pulled apart, you found a smile on his face, but one of wobbly relief. He buried his face in your hair, running his hand through it. 

“Thank you, Robin. I-I know I shouldn’t be so anxious, and I-I must apologize. But please understand that I never want to lose you, again.”

“I do.” You giggled softly, stroking his back. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you go, ever again.”


	31. Baby Struggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick and Robin have been trying for months to have Morgan, but to no avail. Old guilt and sorrows return when Robin tries to blame herself.

It had been six months since your return from the astral plane. And in those six months, you realized that nearly all the future children had been born in your timeline.

Frederick had been eager to bring your future child home, too. You couldn’t say you were any less insistent. Nearly every night, and sometimes every other morning, the two of you were tangled up in each other’s intimate embrace.

However, despite your best (and I do mean best) efforts, you hadn’t prevailed.

Your brow furrowed as you thought on this unfortunate realization. You were waiting and waiting for Morgan to finally be born, but now that you had the chance, he wouldn’t show.

-

“I just don’t get it.” You whispered to yourself with a heavy sigh. You stared out the window of your den-turned-study, the office you and Frederick shared being emptied to make space for the baby.

When you realized Morgan hadn’t come, you wondered if that room was at all necessary.

You couldn’t figure out what you were doing wrong. Why wasn’t it working? You and Frederick had been trying to have Morgan like rabbits in heat. So where was your little boy?

“Naga...if this is some sort of payback for leaving the plane or something, I’d like you to quit it.” You mumbled, arms crossed as you sank down in the chair. “All we want is Morgan. What’s keeping us from having him now?”

You were drawn from your thoughts by Frederick’s key unlocking the door. He came in with the usual loud clanks, though he seemed a bit slower paced than usual.

“Robin, I’m back.” He announced, and spotted you in the chair by the window. He came to your side, peering down at your sinking form curiously. “You seem to be deep in thought. Is everything all right?”

“I mean, I’m okay.” You gestured to yourself, shifting back up to a sitting position. You reached out and took Frederick’s hands, “I’m just thinking, is all. But are you okay?”

“I am...well enough.” He nodded, “I will be much better once I’m out of my armor. Then I’ll get to work on dinner and we can discuss whatever you seem to be thinking so hard on.”

“Nonsense. You’ve been training soldiers all day. Go relax; I can handle dinner. Besides, Lon’qu was teaching Lissa how to peel potatoes, again. I got to take home some extras.”

“Oh?” He smiled softly as he let you pull yourself up with his grip. “Do I sense a meat and potato stew coming on, this evening?”

“I know it’s one of your favorites.” You mused, and leaned up to peck his lips. “Hardy, healthy, handsome, delicious...”

“Are you still talking about dinner?” He murmured in response, his hands slipping to your waist. His eyes were warm, perhaps a little more mischievous than usual. You knew what he was thinking.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. What was one more try?

“I...was thinking more along the lines of dessert.”

“I thought so.” He grinned, lifting you up and promptly carrying you to the bedroom. You laughed, arms flung around his neck. The armor came off far quicker than usual, followed by some clothes here and there on the floor.

Dinner came a little later, that evening.

* * *

It had been two weeks since what you were sure would be your shot at Morgan. You were so sure that it was finally time. But when you spoke with Libra again, he denied your hopes.

He sent you home with a wave of apologies and a pouch of herbs that were supposed to “help” the process, but...you weren’t so sure you wanted to bother, anymore.

You trudged back to your quarters with a soft frown, biting your lip to keep from trembling. Was he never to come?

Maybe in this timeline, you weren’t supposed to have Morgan. Maybe something was wrong with you, or Frederick...but, no, Frederick was perfectly healthy. There wasn’t a thing wrong with him; therefore, it had to be your fault.

You turned the key and pulled the door open, heading for the bedroom. You stopped short when you spotted Frederick in the living area, dusting the various objects in the room. Your brow furrowed; what on earth was he doing home?

“Welcome back,” He spotted you with a soft smile, “I was waiting for you. I...know you had a meeting with Libra, this afternoon. I thought I would come home early to be here.”

You couldn’t even find the words. You just stared at him, clutching the little pouch in your hand tighter. Frederick tucked the dust rag away and came up to you. He looked almost antsy, trying to control his curiosity. His hope.

“And...may I ask what he said? Is...is Morgan…?”

Your shoulders began to tremble. Your gaze fell to the floor, trying to hide the tears that welled up. Slowly, you shook your head no. The sorrow that swelled in your chest couldn’t be held back, anymore. You choked out a sob.

Frederick frowned sadly, quick to draw you into his chest. He wrapped his arm around you in a tight embrace, letting you cry into his vest. Your fingers curled tightly into the fabric, pouch forgotten on the floor.

“I-I...I just want Morgan…!” Your voice wavered as you spoke, muffled against him as he tried to comfort you against his own sorrow.

“I know.” He murmured, jaw clenched as he fought to keep his feelings from showing. You needed the comfort just as badly as he did, but...the least he could do was hold out a little longer.

“I’m sorry...I-I’m so sorry, Frederick- this is a-all my fault…”

“Robin, no, you can’t...don’t blame yourself.” Frederick pulled back to look at you, heart breaking at the sight of the utter grief in your expression. “I’m equally to blame. Clearly I...I am not as capable of providing the family we want. It certainly isn’t your fault!”

“N-no, that’s not true!” You warbled, pushing at the tears streaming from your eyes. “Y-you’re...you’re perfectly healthy and nothing’s ever wrong with you, and I- I-I’m nothing like you at all! And then I up and abandoned you and now I’m back and I can’t even m-make anything up to you by having the family you want! T-that we want! I just...I...I’m so sorry.”

“Enough.” He shook his head, brushing away the tears and cupping your cheeks. “Robin, I...even if we can’t have Morgan, I don’t blame you for anything. You did your duty and sacrificed yourself to bring peace to realms. I would wait an eternity for you, just as I would Morgan. And even if you never came back...even if Morgan never does...it’ll be all right. There’s nothing I’d want more than to have my family together, but I can live without it. So long as I have you…”

“B-but…”

“It’s all right. We’ll just keep trying. Even if nothing comes of it for ages, we can wait. But we shouldn’t give up, nor should we blame ourselves. We have our Morgan, we know he’s to come about someday, so...we should have faith that we’ll bring him to this timeline.”

“What if we can’t?” You asked in a voice so small you almost didn’t believe it. But Frederick heard you, and his frown deepened. 

“That won’t be the case. Everyone else has had their children, now- I know for a fact that we’ll have ours, as well. Do you believe that, too?”

“I want to. Gods, I-I want to.” You told him with a shaky tone. He nodded and pulled you into him once more.

“Then believe it. We’ll have our Morgan. If anyone can do it, we can.” He promised, “We’ll...we’ll try different things. I’m sure there are spells or herbs, or other methods to ensure Morgan comes to us.”

“L-Libra did give me some herbs we could try to use…” You mentioned, nuzzling against him. Frederick smiled against your forehead, pressing a kiss to your soft skin.

“Then we’ll use them. And it may be possible for me to go and speak with Virion about maximizing our chances. If anyone would know how to help with the more intimate aspect of having Morgan, it would be him.”

At that, you giggled nervously. “You really want to ask Virion about the best way to conceive?”

“I would rather not ask Virion about anything. But when your options are limited…”

“Good point.” You wrapped your arms around him tightly. “Then...okay. I won’t give up. W-we’ll keep trying.”

He pulled back just enough to properly kiss you. The two of you headed for the bedroom then, for comfort and closeness, and remind each other how much you truly did love one another.

It was another few months before you finally had your break; whether thanks to the herbs or Virion’s less savory advice, you didn’t know. But you didn’t care, either- now that you had your little Morgan to welcome into the world.


	32. Baby Fevers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan and Marc have come down with awful fevers, and Frederick is beside himself with grief, anxiety and most of all, blame.

He was beside himself in a mixture of disbelief, shame and grief. The poor man had been zipping between children since last night- Morgan having been quarantined to their shared bedroom, and Marc to the living area. She’d been bundled up on the makeshift bedding he had set out for her, making sure to put extra care in keeping his little ones comfortable.

Especially when they both shared a raging fever. You did your best to remain calm, despite how panicky Frederick had become. It seemed he couldn’t stop moving, trying to find a solution to the problem.

“Have you taken their temperatures again?” You asked him as you passed him a wooden bucket, the water having warmed to room temperature. He nodded with a grave frown, dumping the water and swapping it for a cold, fresher replacement.

“They have stagnated. Morgan and Marc both have yet to warm up or cool down. I fear they may be like this for a while longer. I’ll have to cancel training for the next week, at least…” He said in a quickened speech, not bothering to waste time when his little ones were in need.

“I’ll speak with Libra about getting some more cloves or cinnamon. They respond well to herbs- perhaps a little more exposure will help break the fevers?”

“Anything if it will help.” He agreed without a doubt, grabbing the spare cloths and heading for Morgan’s room. It was all you could do to trail after him, your husband moving a mile a millisecond and driven purely by worry. You’d been meaning to talk to him about reigning it in a little…

“Papa…?” Morgan’s raspy voice tugged at both yours and Frederick’s heartstrings, his throat hoarse from hacking and wheezing all morning. The two of you came to his side without fail, Frederick kneeling beside his bed and pressing a hand to Morgan’s little forehead.

“I’m here, son. How are you feeling?”

“Bad...hey, Mama.” Morgan looked up at you, and you managed a tight smile. You wrung the wet cloth out, gently dabbing at his flushed little cheeks before gingerly placing it where Frederick’s hand had just been. 

“Hello, my love. It seems you’re still feeling a little under the weather, aren’t you?” You mused, brushing away the matted hair that stuck to his face. Morgan nodded slowly, the tears brimming in his eyes only serving to make your hearts break more.

“Yeah...I don’t like it at all.” He mumbled, reaching up and grasping your hand. “I-I wanna feel better.”

“Don’t worry, dearest. Papa and I are doing everything we can to make you get better quick. Who knows, maybe you’ll be right as rain by tomorrow morning.” You assured him, and you could see a glimmer of hope behind the glazed brown eyes. 

“R-really?”

“I’ll do all I can to make it so.” Frederick chimed in, his thumb tenderly brushed Morgan’s cheek. The poor boy was still hot to the touch, which only served to worsen his father’s guilt. “I-I promise.”

“You can do a lot, Papa. ‘Cos you’re super strong, right?” He murmured drowsily. Frederick’s lips quirked upward, if only for a moment, at Morgan’s words.

“I wish I had the strength to heal you immediately...but I suppose I can make do with what I have. Part of that is making sure you get some sleep.” He replied, and you gave Morgan’s hand a squeeze.

“Try and take a nap for a little while, all right? They say sleep is one of the best ways to recover when you’re feeling ill.” You told him, watching his weak smile wobble onto his face.

“O-okay, Mama.” He mumbled, his heavy eyes falling shut as the two of you stepped away. You then moved to the little girl still sleeping on the couch, her breathing labored and trembling from her congestion.

“Marc…” Frederick murmured her name, making his way to her side and brushing his fingers along her cheek. “It seems she’s beaten Morgan to resting.”

“Good. If she’s sleeping that means she’s recovering.” You assured him with a relieved smile, gently stroking Marc’s hair. Frederick’s expression was unreadable as he looked at his little daughter. She was so much smaller than Morgan, yet to think she’d be fighting so hard…

“Perhaps we should schedule another consultation with Libra.” He said as you replaced the cloth on her forehead with a fresh one. You nodded in agreement, his hand lifting to tuck the blankets around her tighter. “There may be some herbal remedy he could suggest to help with her congestion.”

“All right. If you’d like, I can go ahead and you can stay with the children.” You offered, knowing how anxious he was to leave the pair. Frederick shook his head, standing with you when you started for the kitchen.

“No...no, I can go. It’s important that I make sure to-” He paused in the doorway. You didn’t think anything of it until his voice cracked. “T-that I make sure they receive t-the best care-”

“Frederick?” You turned to find your husband’s shoulders shaking. His head was dipped down, hiding his eyes behind his hair. But you could clearly see the tears drip from his cheeks. “Frederick!”

You left the bucket in the sink before you darted to him, reaching up and cupping his cheeks with your hands. He refused to meet your worried gaze, as if you weren’t already stressed enough with two ill children.

“F-Frederick, what’s the matter? Are you all right?” You asked, panicked. Frederick shook his head, pulling away so he could wipe his eyes.

“Forgive me. F-forgive me, I...I just...the thought of them being so sick…” He trailed off, trying desperately to retain whatever dignity he had left. “I-I’ve tried to keep them as healthy as possible, b-but when I’ve so clearly failed…”

“It’s not your fault they’re sick.” You told him evenly, taking his hands in yours. “Sometimes kids just get sick, Frederick. You can’t help that. You’ve raised them to be very strong and healthy- they just happened to have a bit of bad luck, is all. It happens to the best of us.”

“Perhaps there was something I missed. T-they’ve become so weak, I cannot believe there is any explanation but my own shortcomings.”

“Or the fact that this season’s when everyone gets sick.” You reasoned, squeezing his hands. “You mustn’t be so upset, Frederick. It’s really not your fault, and neither Morgan nor Marc would blame you for this. I know you’re worried, but we should focus on making sure they get better instead of why they’re sick at all.”

“I-I know.” He sniffed, shaking his head. “I-I just...I can hardly believe that this could have happened. My little ones…”

“Will be all right. It’ll pass in a few days, and all we have to do is be there for them to help them through it.” You told him in a soothing voice. “Okay?”

He nodded, pursing his lips. You managed a tired smile, wrapping your arms around him. You embraced him tightly, feeling how tense he’d become. The emotional and physical strain of your two precious babies being so sick had finally broken him.

Yet when you held him, it felt as if he was being kept together. He buried his face in your hair, returning your embrace two-fold.

“They’ll be all right.” You promised, stroking his hair sweetly. “They’ll make it through.”

“I know.” He mumbled against you. “...Thank you, my sweet.”

Morgan and Marc did end up making a full recovery within the week, bouncing around your quarters like they’d never been sick in the first place only a few days later.

This was all well and good...save for the fact that Frederick’s cold made his headache worse (and two rambunctious little ones certainly didn’t help).


	33. Reunited in Askr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick is summoned to Askr in hopes of distracting him from the grief of losing you to defeat Grima. Alfonse and Sharena notice his sorrow, and have quite the plan to fix it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a ringer this one was lololol  
> nothing gets me going like a good reunion fic!!

There were so many Robins.

Frederick had taken a psychological hit when Prince Alfonse had summoned him. He looked about and saw several familiar faces, though none were from his realm.

None of the Robins were his. One was unmarried and a monster on the battlefield; another was fresh from the Plegian War and looking optimistic as ever, but clearly liked someone else. Another still was married to another Chrom, which was even more heartbreaking.

He was lost, and alone. The battles went well, but weren’t enough. The man heaved a sigh, leaning against a tree outside of camp. Seeing that smile he knew so well, that voice...the laughter...to know that none were for him...he couldn’t bear it.

Somewhere, deep down, he had hopes that you would come. But why would you be summoned to Askr when you were up in the astral plane somewhere? How would that even be possible?

He shook his head, eyes closed against the embattled realm. Perhaps he should request early leave. He could only handle such torment for so long.

It was noticed by the prince and princess, the pair of siblings spotting the knight from their place in camp. Sharena nudged Alfonse’s shoulder, a frown on her lips.

“You think we summoned the wrong Frederick?” She asked, “He seems really down.”

“Well...there are a number of reasons that could be. It depends on the timeline he’s from. If you remember, their Exalt, Emmeryn died. We might have summoned him just after that.”

“Or maybe the Grima thing. What if this Frederick’s married to a Robin?” She guessed, “What if his Robin became, or maybe killed, Grima?”

“Maybe so.” Alfonse murmured, “Perhaps we should see to sending him home. He’s fought well enough, but if he’s in a state like this, maybe we should let him grieve.”

“But we have to do something! Surely we can find a way to lift his spirits! Why don’t we try summoning his Robin? Or maybe his Chrom! Somebody he knows to help him feel better!”

“If his Robin is dead, that won’t work.” Alfonse said grimly, “Besides, it wouldn’t do to summon their Exalt on top of one of their generals.”

“Didn’t stop you before.” She muttered. “Come on, can’t we please try it? We’ve gotta do something!”

“Well...it is unpleasant, seeing him like this.”

“Then we’d best go find his Robin!” Sharena cheered and tugged him away, the two royals off to reunite the sorrowful captain with his lost love.

* * *

Frederick didn’t pay any mind to the commotion around camp, days later. He had, for the most part, exiled himself from them. He couldn’t bear to be near to any of those Robins, those mirror images of his dearest.

If he was needed, they would come to find him, as they did for every battle. Perhaps sending one of the royals or their commander, or a hero from another world.

Although he could hear the chatter and curiosity rumbling about, he chose to stay away, in the peace of his little forest haven.

He acknowledged no one until he heard the crunching of leaves under another person’s boots. Frederick paused his thinking, and rose at the frantic footfalls that were coming. 

“Has something happened?” He asked seriously, turning to face the oncomer. “Is everything-”

Dark eyes met bright. Frederick froze, staring down at a Robin who looked just as shocked to see him. His heart squeezed at the sight, a painful yearning in his chest. Her mouth fell open, then closed, and opened again. She couldn’t find the words to speak.

Frederick tried to recover himself; he hadn’t had a Robin sent to him before. He wasn’t expecting to see her face. He had made it clear he wanted little to do with the mirrors.

It took all his strength to break his gaze, the flood of painful, precious memories having caught him off guard. He turned his head to the grass, hands clasped tight behind his back.

“Were no others able to send for me?” He questioned with a hint of bitterness in his tone. Who was he kidding; nothing but bitterness left his tongue. “It is nothing against you, milady, but...I cannot see you.”

“Frederick?” Your voice; his name on your lips. Frederick’s eyes narrowed, jaw clenched as he tried to keep his composure. “F-Frederick, it’s me…!”

At this, he slowly returned his gaze to the Robin before him. There was a strange look on your face; you appeared ready to cry. Your fingers trembled, your eyes glistening with unshed tears as you stepped towards him.

For the briefest moment, a glimmer of hope found him. “It’s...you?” He echoed, unconvinced.

You swallowed thickly, nodding quickly to confirm it. “F-Freddybear, it’s me. I’m...I’m back!”

That name.

Frederick’s heart skipped a beat. None of the other Robins had ever approached him that way, and not once did they use that dreadful nickname you’d given him. He didn’t move as you came closer, your expression that of sorrow and joy inexplicably meshed together.

“Back...back from where?” His voice was naught but a breath. Cautiously you reached out, taking hold of his hands. He stiffened at your touch, that familiar warmth he had so yearned for suddenly returning to him. It was no ghost; it was real, and there.

You were there.

“Naga, dearest, she...she sent me here! She said someone was ‘summoning’ me, someone important and that you would be there to see me and I found you and you’re here and- gods, Frederick, I’m back!”

He needn’t hear another word. He engulfed you in a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair as a strangled sob escaped his lips. He squeezed you against him, curling his fingers into your coat as he found what he had been waiting years for.

It was you. You had come to him...you came home.

“Robin…!” He whispered your name so fiercely, over and over as if it were a prayer. You broke down into sobs, clutching onto him for all you were worth. Your fingers darting over his neck, through his hair and down his back, trying to feel every inch of him.

Gods, you had missed him so much. He had ached for you so terribly. 

“I-I can’t believe...after all this time I...I thought you were never to return to me…! H-how did you? And this place, no less!”

“It was all Naga.” You told him, pulling back just enough to see his face. You smiled sadly at his tears, sniffling and pushing away your own joy enough to speak. “She lead me to a light she said would bring me back to you. I-I came through and ended up in some strange camp- I asked everyone where you were and I found you right here, and now...I’m here.”

“Oh, my darling.” He pressed his forehead to yours, arm curled tight around your waist. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, wiping away the tears that fell merely by his touch. “I have suffered...longed for you...prayed every night that you might finally find me. I-I can’t believe that it’s truly you.”

“It’s me, love.” You promised as you cupped his cheeks, swiping at the odd tear with the pads of your thumbs. He pressed into your touch, relishing the feeling of your hands truly on him, again. “Ah, gods I’ve missed you so much…!”

The two of you sank to the forest floor, the knight feverishly removing his armor so that he could truly feel your warmth against his. You pressed against him, fingers clutched to his vest as if letting go would cause him to disappear.

The ring he had given you so long ago gleamed on your finger, further cementing the truth. You were real and you were there. 

You drowned in each other’s touch, kisses rained down on every inch of each other you could reach. You never once separated, not even when the Askrian royals came to check in.

Alfonse explained through his bright red blush that it would be possible to send you both home immediately; Frederick had fought plenty battles for the both of you.

With arms linked and hands clasped tightly together, you returned to your world. Even when the others caught wind; reunited with your closest friends and allies, you never once parted from your beloved.

You let him lead you back to your shared quarters, taking you to bed where you simply lied there, together.

Wrapped in each other’s tender embrace, you stayed for hours simply talking and grieving and laughing, again. 

You promised never to leave his side again, and he yours; you would remain together for the rest of your days, making up every second lost without him.


	34. Morgan's Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Morgan has a frightening nightmare and only snuggling up with his parents will do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick little tale for you this lovely Monday!

When he heard the door slowly creak open, Frederick was instantly awake. Out of habit, he reached for the knife he kept hidden close by, discreet and unnoticeable. 

He prepared to strike, until he heard the soft pitter patter of little feet following the intruder’s entrance. Then came the tug on the blankets, and Morgan’s little voice over on your side of the bed. Frederick relaxed, returning the knife to its hiding place.

“Mama?” He croaked, sounding simply pitiful. You stirred next to him, feeling Morgan’s hands on your shoulder. “M-Mama, I had a bad dream…”

“...Another one…?” You replied in a tired voice, pushing away the hair from your face. Frederick took that as his queue to join in, leaning up so he could peer over the bed. What he saw nearly broke his heart; his sweet little boy with tears springing in his eyes, shaking like a leaf.

“Y-yeah...it was another scary dragon.” Morgan sniffled. Frederick’s brow furrowed, looking to you. You gave him a shrug. “T-the one with the big red eyes.”

“Grima?” Frederick mouthed, feeling a whole new wave of concern when you nodded. You sighed and leaned down, lifting Morgan onto the bed.

“And do you remember what I told you about the scary dragon?” You rested Morgan on your lap, sitting up beside Frederick who was wide awake. Morgan nodded, looking at your chest in an effort to avoid your eyes. His hands grasped your nightdress, desperate to hold the tears back.

“He’s gone.” Frederick answered for you both, looking at his son with as much calm as he could manage. Hearing that Morgan was having nightmares about Grima was a touch unsettling, however. “We defeated the dragon ourselves, remember? We’ve told you the story.”

“I-I know...I-I just keep thinkin’ about it, a-and how it was so big and mean and scary a-and then it shows up when I t-try to sleep an’ I…” Morgan trailed off, hiccuping. You nodded in understanding, hugging him close. 

Frederick reached out, stroking the little one’s hair. “Well there’s no need to be afraid of it, anymore. That beast can’t hurt you. I would never let it.”

“Y-you wouldn’t?” Morgan peeked out from over your arm, looking at his father with a hopeful sparkle in his eyes. “D-do you mean it?”

“Of course. I’d kill that dragon a thousand times over if I had to. Just to keep you safe.” He promised with such a firmness in his voice it would’ve been impossible to dispute.

“And I’d gladly help him do it.” You assured Morgan, rubbing away the tear stains on his cheek. “So you don't need to be scared of any bad dreams.”

“Okay.” Morgan sniffled, “B-but what if he comes back when I'm all alone? I-if I go back to bed and he comes again, it'll wake me up!”

“Then I suppose you'll just have to sleep here for the night.” Frederick stated. You glanced up at him just as Morgan gasped happily, already wiggling off your lap and in between his parents.

“T-thank you, Papa!” He smiled with such relief it was almost like Morgan genuinely felt he avoided a dangerous situation. Frederick managed a smile despite his concern. Grima terrorizing his little boy in his dreams worried him greatly.

“Not to worry. We'll protect you no matter what. Now why don't we get some sleep?” He murmured, pulling the blankets over Morgan as he settled down in between you. The two of you turned towards him, yourself looking at Frederick with a quirked eyebrow.

“I thought we weren't going to baby him.” You whispered, running your hand through Morgan’s hair as he slowly drifted off. 

It was Frederick’s turn to shrug. “You can see how those nightmares affect him, Robin. I don't want to send him off if he'll only have another. The least we can do is make him feel safe while he battles through them.”

“I suppose. Perhaps we should speak with Libra about these dreams. I'd hate for them to continue.” You suggested, to which he agreed.

“We'll make the arrangements tomorrow. But for now, let's give him a good night’s sleep.”

You beamed at your husband, watching as he tucked Morgan in. There was a gentle smile on his face, as if he couldn't make it more clear how much he adored his son. 

You chased away the dragons, that night.


	35. Courtship Conflation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Owain from the future asks for Frederick's blessing to court the captain's daughter, Marc...much to Frederick's dismay.

When the young prince from the future approached Frederick, he assumed that he was going to ask for another private training session, or perhaps a duel “to the death”. 

He was utterly shocked when he came not only red-faced and fidgeting, but with a very important question.

“Good Sir Frederick, I would implore you to consider perhaps allowing me the honor of...of being able to engage your daughter in the sacred act of courtship.”

He nearly dropped the vase he was supposed to be dusting. His brow furrowed, entire body tensed like a beast ready to pounce. “You what?”

Owain’s shoulders jumped at the dangerous tone, quick to explain himself.

“Y-you see, sir, your daughter and I have become far closer in these last few months than any of my comrades from the future. I-I greatly admire her intelligence and wit, and her strength is matched only by the other members of your family. I respect her greatly, and would like to take our relationship beyond friendly affections. ...T-that is, if I’ve your blessing.”

“Lord Owain, that is...I am unsure that...w-well…” Frederick’s jaw clenched, trying to find the proper explanation. There wasn’t one.

Every bone in his body was screaming “No, don’t you dare let this happen”, but at the same time, he knew that Marc held affections for him. He could see it clear as day on her face, and if she found out that he had forbid their courtship, she may never forgive him for it.

But at the same time...Owain was a prince, and Marc merely the Captain’s and Chief Tactician’s daughter. No noble blood to her name. That, and she was his _daughter._ Future child or not, Marc was currently living under his roof, and therefore he would be the one to decide whom she courted or not.

But her happiness was so very important to him...but her safety…

“Er...Sir Frederick? Have I stunned you too greatly?” Owain asked nervously upon Frederick’s sudden silence. 

Frederick straightened, setting the vase down. “Forgive me, milord. I will need some time to consider your proposition. ...Some time, indeed.”

“Understood!” Owain replied instantly, relief relaxing his shoulders. He thought for sure Frederick would kill him with the proposal. “Please, take all the time you need, sir! I will be waiting anxiously for your response.”

Frederick bowed quickly before retreating to his quarters, seeking you out. You were sitting with future Morgan (and currently six months pregnant with your own Morgan), pouring over a tome you’d bought in the market only a few days ago. Marc was nowhere to be found, thank goodness.

“Robin, I need to speak with you about something urgent.” Frederick said without so much a greeting, shutting the door behind him to both the foyer, and to the living area. You quirked an eyebrow.

“Is everything all right, Father? Should I be present?” Morgan asked, a mix of curiosity and concern on his face.

“Actually...yes. You could provide some valuable insight as her brother.”

“Is there something wrong with Marc?” 

“No. Not yet, there isn’t.” He replied ominously, gaining your more amused attention. You leaned back, resting a hand on your baby bump. 

“What seems to be the problem, dearest?”

He glanced around the room, “Marc has received a...request of courtship.”

“Oh, how wonderful! I was hoping she’d find someone soon. She’s so lovely, I’m surprised she didn’t receive one earlier.”

“Yes, well...we might have had something to do with that.” Morgan grinned sheepishly, “Who was it this time, Father?”

“That’s the problem.” Frederick frowned, a grave expression on his face. “The courtier in question is Prince Owain.”

“No way! Owain?!” Morgan’s eyes popped wide open. Frederick shushed him, quick to silence the boy.

“Not so loudly! Someone could hear.” Frederick whispered fiercely, “As you both know, this holds several ramifications, specifically with the bloodline. Neither you, Robin, nor I have any semblance of royal blood. I’m afraid Validar’s line is invalid.”

“I wouldn’t want to be considered a Plegian royal, anyways.” You agreed, “But I have to admit, I don’t inherently see why that’s a problem.”

“It’s a _problem_ because as the prince of Ylisse, his duty is to take a wife that will further the royal bloodline. If he were to wed a young woman who is not of noble birth, it would…”

“Pollute the bloodline?” You said with a frown and a quirked brow. Morgan’s smile dropped, staring at his father.

“N-no, that’s not- well, in a sense, yes. It is expected of the prince to take a wife of noble birth, to maintain the sanctity of the royal bloodline. If he were to marry a woman of common birth, he would no longer be able to maintain the title of prince. He would be demoted, in a sense.”

“If he marries for love, my dear, I still don’t see how that is an issue.” You replied, “I think it’s a bit of an overreaction.”

“I can assure you, it isn’t. If my family brought the downfall of Ylisse’s royal family line, I would be forever ashamed. I-it would be a great dishonor! A lowly captain’s daughter, wed to the prince of Ylisse? How would that reflect upon the Exalt’s family, or ours? People would see it as a trick, as a power move for us to gain respect and notoriety!”

“I highly doubt anyone would have a problem with the captain who saved the kingdom marrying his daughter to the princess’s son.” You mused, “He’s not first in line to be king, nor is he second or third. Lucina would take Chrom’s place, and Cynthia after that, and Lissa after Cynthia; long before Owain would, assuming it ever comes to that.”

“Y-yes, but still, it’s...it’s the _principle_ of the thing, Robin. Surely you agree, Morgan.”

“Well…” Morgan frowned, deep in thought. “I do understand your concern, but...in my future, noble rank and bloodlines didn’t matter quite so much. I mean, Cynthia’s courting Gerome, and he’s Cherche’s son. She’s not exactly nobility.”

“But you agree it would be inappropriate?” 

“I-I mean-”

“Then it’s settled. I’ll go to Owain and inform him that he will not be courting Marc.”

“Hold on a second, Freddybear.” Morgan helped you up from the couch when you moved to stand, and you waddled up to him with a knowing smile on your lips. “I don’t think this has entirely been decided.”

“No?”

“Not in the least.” You nodded, “You see, I don’t think Owain would’ve come here if he hadn’t considered the ramifications of courting a woman who wasn’t noble. In fact, I’m positive he has; he talks to Lissa about everything...and Lissa talks to _me_ about everything.”

“Are you implying you already knew of milord’s intentions?” Frederick’s eyes narrowed. You nodded again as you took his hands in yours. 

“Yes, my love. Lissa is all for it, by the way. She thinks it would be lovely for Marc to date Owain; I believe she said Marc’s got a ‘good head on her shoulders’, and ‘she’s the daughter of two of the people she trusts most in the world’, and ‘she’s also quite the looker’.” 

Frederick felt a small puff of pride at Lissa’s words, and a dust of pink on his cheeks when you mentioned the last bit. 

“If the Exalt’s sister has no problem with their courtship, surely you shouldn’t, either. Unless...there’s another reason why Marc shouldn’t be allowed to court him.”

“N-no, certainly...certainly not.” Frederick looked away, determined not to give away his deeper intentions. You grinned at him, finding a mirrored smile on your son’s face.

“No? So you’re not reluctant because you’re such an overprotective papa when it comes to your little girl?”

“Nonsense. I’m the perfectly normal amount of protective when it comes to my children’s romantic interests! If Morgan were interested in...in Princess Lucina, gods forbid, I would be against that, as well!”

“Because you don’t want to give your babies away, or because you’re _that_ uptight about them falling in love with the wrong people?”

“I am _not_ uptight about-”

“Frederick.” You called his name softly, bringing his gaze back to you. He didn’t like that knowing smile on your lips; but he also knew that you were right. “Darling, she’s a grown woman. She’s perfectly capable of making her own decisions.”

“Yes, but...she’s my _daughter._ I...I only want what’s best for her, and the kingdom.”

“And you don’t think Owain is best for her? Even though he’s literally all she talks about?”

Frederick fell silent, his frown deep. You reached up and touched his arm, gently drawing his attention to you.

“Frederick...I think you ought to give Owain a chance. I’m sure everything will work out just fine.” You reassured him. “Besides, our Marc hasn’t been born yet. If you’re really worried about it, you have a whole 18 years before you have to bother with Marc’s suitors.”

“That is true…”

“And think of it this way; Marc dating Owain now can be our little social experiment. If it works out for them, perhaps in our future, you can give Owain your blessing later on. And if it doesn’t, then you needn’t give it at all.”

“A valid point. I...suppose, then, that...I should inform Prince Owain of this development.”

“I suppose so.” You beamed at him, “And for extra insurance, you could always ask Morgan here to keep an eye on them.”

“I’ll watch them with both eyes wide open!” Morgan chimed, saluting his father. Frederick chuckled, giving a soft exhale.

“Very well, then. I shall tell him the news. ...Later. Maybe not right this moment.”

“Frederick…”

“Oh, all right.” He sighed, and leaned down to peck your forehead. “I’ll be back. I expect you to be here when I return.”

“You’ve got it, darling.” You waved him off. Morgan gave you a questioning glance when he left, “He’s most likely going to be pouting when he comes home. It’s his polite way of asking me to dote on him after he breaks his world to pieces.”

“Father’s so protective...I’m really glad for it. It makes me far less worried for the two of us, here!”

“Me, too.” You giggled, listening as the front door closed before you tapped the back of the couch. “Did you hear that, dear? It sounds like you’ll finally get your shot at love after all.”

“Yes!!” Marc exploded from her hiding place, fist pumped in the air. “I _knew_ you could do it! I’ve been waiting to date Owain for _ages._ I knew Papa would be a hard sell, but if anyone could convince him, it’d be the two of you!”

“Which means you owe me your dessert for the next month.” Morgan grinned, “But I wasn’t joking when I promised Father I’d be keeping an eye on you. I’m gonna be watching you lovebirds like a hawk!”

“Ew, really? That’s so creepy! Mama, please make sure he doesn’t do anything weird like that.” Marc begged, to which you laughed. 

“I don’t know, Owain is quite the character. If there was anyone I felt confident would keep you safe besides your father, it’s definitely Morgan.”

“Nooo!”

“Get used to it, baby sister! You’re gonna be seeing me a lot more often!!”

“You creep!!”


	36. Soulmate AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which your soulmate's first words to you are written on your wrist, but when you've got amnesia, who knows what the heck a soulmate tattoo even is??

Lissa had brought it up on a whim.

“What’s your sentence, anyways?” She had asked, and you hadn’t a clue what she meant. “Sentence”? Were you going to prison? She laughed when you replied.

“The mark on your wrist, silly. That’s the first thing your soulmate will ever say to you! That’s how you’ll know it’s them!!” At her explanation you became suddenly more interested. You quickly pulled back your sleeve, peering at the delicately written words on your wrist.

_“It’s called a load of pegasus dung.”_

“...Huh.” Your face blanched when you read the phrase. Lissa snorted.

“Well, that’s one way to make an impression! I wonder who would say that to somebody the first time you met them!! That seems awfully rude, doesn’t it? And you don’t seem like a rude person, so...maybe it’ll be an opposites attract sort of thing?”

“I most certainly am not a rude person!” You said indignantly, much to her amusement. But you couldn’t deny that phrase was familiar. In fact, it felt as though you had heard it only a few days, before.

It wasn’t until Lissa left that you finally realized why; it was the exact phrase Frederick had said when he first saw you, verbatim.

Your face flushed hot and red. Frederick was your soulmate. Frederick, the man who had no shortage of wariness and cold indifference for you, constantly glaring in your direction and just waiting for you to make the wrong move.

He was your soulmate.

“Oh, gods…” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. He was your soulmate, but...did he know that? What had you said to him, first?

_“I understand, sir- I would do no less, myself.”_

It had been a simple thing, but considering the circumstances, surely Frederick would have realized who you were.

You pursed your lips. You had to tell him.

Maybe...maybe he wasn’t the only person to say that to you. Maybe it’ll be the first thing another person will say to you, as unpleasant the idea was.

Besides, if Frederick really was your soulmate, surely he would have told you. He would’ve said something, looked at his wrist, or...anything.

You sighed softly, standing from your bedroll and heading out the tent. You would have to speak with the lieutenant about this, if not to confirm he was actually....the “one” (which sent your stomach into flips), to confirm he wasn’t.

It was a few moments before you finally found him, the man checking over the armory as a last review before retiring for the evening.

He didn’t even acknowledge your presence when you walked in, far too busy with his own work to give you the time of day. Why be friendly with someone you couldn’t even trust, after all.

“Er, Sir Frederick?” You called quietly for him, finally drawing his attention. He set down the lance he had been inspecting, plenty sharp and perfect to skewer someone looking to try and sneak attack him. 

“Is there something you need?” He asked in his serious, cordial tone. You swallowed thickly; maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Y-yes, actually. I need to talk to you about something. Lissa was talking with me about something I thought was rather peculiar. I’m assuming you’re familiar with the soulmate, er, tattoos?”

“I am quite familiar with it.” Frederick replied bluntly, “Everyone is born with the first thing their soulmate says to them on their wrist.”

“I see...well, I feel that my situation is a little different. I had no idea what a soulmate’s tattoo was until she explained it to me, this evening. So when we looked at mine, well…”

“Well?”

“I-it’s a little uncouth.” You told him. His brow furrowed, frown drawing into a thin line.

“And you wish to share this with me because…?” 

“Because...because it’s the first thing you said to me.” You said as you approached, and you drew your sleeve back to show him. Frederick spared you a wary glance before he peered down, reading the single sentence.

“That is...an unfortunate one.” Was about as much that he could manage. “Are you sure this is the first thing I said to you?”

“How could I forget? It was a bit of a shock,” You laughed nervously, “And after Lissa told me what this was, it sort of made sense.”

“But why would you bring this to me, now?” He questioned, “Would you not have known about this beforehand? Surely you would’ve recognized it.”

“The only explanation I can think of is the amnesia. I couldn’t even remember my name, after all; how could I remember a soulmate’s first words?” 

“That is...plausible.” He seemed to relax some, “I suppose you ought to recognize this, then.”

You watched in silence, frozen in place as he removed his gauntlet, then his glove, and pulled back his sleeve. You stared at the little phrase he showed.

_“I understand, sir- I would do no less, myself.”_

Your eyes went wide, and you stared up at him. The frown on his lips had relaxed, looking down at you with something between happiness, apologies, embarrassment and a hint of suspicion that had yet to leave him.

“F-Frederick, that’s...that’s what I said to...I-I said that to you’.” You were in disbelief.

“When you had said it, I thought it was possible, but...you didn’t react. There was no sign that you were my soulmate.”

“B-but that’s because I didn’t remember!” You realized with an incredulous expression. “Oh, Frederick, I’m so sorry...I...what are we going to do? You’re supposed to be my soulmate but I’m not trustworthy enough to even…”

“For that, I must apologize.” Frederick stopped you, his hand politely falling to yours. You were floored when he reached for you, but let him all the same. His hands were so much bigger, so warm and strong…

“W-whatever for?”

“I was cold to you, and far too harsh. I should have trusted you far sooner. I’ve been unfair to you, and far too unkind. I would hate for you to think that I dislike you, especially knowing that you’re my...you’re my true love.”

“S-so what should we do? Do we just get on with it?” You asked awkwardly, unfocused and caught far off-guard by his tender apology. True love. This was your true love.

“Well, that’s...I think we should try to get to know each other, better. I would like for you to see me beyond just being wary of you. It’s embarrassing to think I’ve treated you so poorly.” 

“It’s okay. I understand why.” You smiled at him, perhaps for the first time in weeks. Frederick finally looked back to you, mildly surprised. “I would like to get to know you better, too, Frederick. I’m sure there’s more to you than being wary and allergic to bear meat.”

He chuckled some at your joke, perhaps more tiredly than out of mirth. “Very well, then. Would you be willing to join me for some tea, this evening? Perhaps by the fire- I haven’t put them all out, yet.”

“That would be lovely, Frederick.” You beamed at him, and Frederick’s heart skipped a beat. He reluctantly released your hand, only to offer you his arm, instead.

“Very well, then. Allow me to escort you to the fire, and then I’ll fetch us some tea. Is there any particular flavor you like?”

“To be honest, I don’t remember.” You laughed at the silliness of it all. Frederick’s lips quirked upward. “But Lissa’s recommended chamomile, if there’s any around.”

“She recommended it because it’s her favorite.” He commented, “I’ll have some prepared, as well as a few others. Consider it repayment for helping me with all those different jerkeys. Though this will be far kinder to your palette.”

“A tea taste test? That sounds like a really interesting first date.” You grinned, before you realized what you said. Your cheeks flushed hotly, “T-that is, unless you don’t want this to be a date. J-just getting to know each other!”

“If it’s a date you want, milady, it’s a date you will have.” 

It took a little while to get used to “non-terrible Frederick”, and you had to admit you were a bit wary of the nice version. But it didn’t take long to realize that you really were meant to be together, and with the way he treated you so sweetly, you were all the happier for it.


	37. Left at the Altar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick gets stood up on his wedding day...but it's more nefarious, and dangerous, than he realized.

When the procession began, Frederick had already been on pins and needles. He wasn’t one to be anxious, but with his wedding day finally arrived, his Exalt and the Princess among the crowd (which was larger than he first anticipated), the nerves were quite real.

They intensified when the time for his bride to walk down the aisle came, but she was nowhere to be found. Chrom, who’d been tasked with escorting you, had no idea where you were.

Frederick at first assumed he’d been stood up. You abandoned him at the altar. He was positive everyone in the room could hear his heart break; all that trust and love you had built up over the last year or so...just gone.

Sumia and Cordelia left to go and find you, so Frederick stood awkwardly before Libra, alone, and the rest of the Shepherds murmured curiously. It wasn’t until the pair came rushing back to the group that he realized something was wrong.

“W-we went to her room to check on her, and the whole place was a wreck!” Sumia exclaimed, “The window a-and the mirrors were broken, everything’s upside down and smashed, it’s...it’s horrible!”

Something was very wrong.

“What?” Chrom’s brow furrowed, and Cordelia stepped forward, producing a scrap of paper. 

“We found this in the middle of the wreckage. It’s a Grimleal symbol.” Cordelia informed them, “We have ample reason to believe that Robin was kidnapped.”

Frederick’s heartbreak mended itself long enough to send his heart thundering in his chest. You had been kidnapped on your wedding day. Mere moments before you were supposed to be wed to him.

“Alert the guard-” Frederick stepped down from the altar, striding down the aisle and headed straight for the armory, “Ready the Shepherds- we haven’t a moment to lose!”

“F-Frederick, you can’t just charge after her with no idea where she went!” Chrom tried to reason, but Frederick wasn’t having it.

“They kidnapped my fiancee, milord, and frankly I’m not going to stand for it. They couldn’t have gotten far, and if we hurry, we should be able to cut them off before they re-enter Plegian territory. There isn’t time to waste!”

Chrom couldn’t argue with that logic. Amidst the flurry of action and worry, the Shepherds were changed into their armor, weapons were equipped, and they were riding out of Ylisstol. Miriel deduced a possible abandoned fort that the kidnappers may have taken you, and it was their best bet at finding you before the Grimleal returned to Plegia.

Frederick didn’t even bother changing; he tossed his jacket aside, strapped on his armor and mounted Hebert before there was even a chance for Chrom to gather the troops.

One minute they were having a wedding, and the next, riding into battle.

Frederick lead the charge, galloping ahead of the group with murder in his eyes. He gripped the reins so tightly they should’ve snapped, but he wasn’t letting up. They had taken his beloved, and he wouldn’t rest until you were safe in his arms, again.

Especially not after they stole you away on what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

“Frederick, up ahead!!” Cordelia called from above, “The fort’s a hundred meters out! There’s a small caravan hidden beside it...I’m willing to bet that’s them!”

“Noted.” Frederick confirmed, pressing Hebert harder.

They raced to reach their destination, but abandoned their steeds and secured them in the forest, away from the sight of your captors. 

They entered quietly, away from detection, determined not to be spotted until it was too late for the enemy. It was when the wrong guard turned the wrong corner that Frederick’s axe was drawn.

They were going to pay.

* * *

This was not the way you had intended for your day to go, not in the slightest. Your dress had been torn and ripped from your bodice, the only clothes remaining being the underdress you wore beneath, and your once white flats that were completely soiled in the grimy prison you were chained in.

It was a royal mess. You hugged your arms with trembling fingers, forced back into the corner of the cell. You had to be careful of where you placed your hands, as the bruises that mottled your skin were tender and dark.

You refused to let a single tear slip, however. You were scared, upset, angry and terribly worried about Frederick. What was going through his mind right now? Was he wondering where you were? Why you weren’t exchanging rings and vows right this moment?

You took a shaking breath, drawing your knees up to your chest. What if he thought you left him? What if he didn’t even realize you were gone, yet? What if he didn’t find you until it was too late?

What if you never got to be with him?

Your shoulders quivered at the last thought, but you fought with all your might to keep it in. A dry sob choked past your lips, but not a tear was going to fall. No- you would see this through to the end.

You were either going down in a blaze of dirty, bruised glory or you would keep faith that your friends would find you, soon.

No later than when you prayed for the latter did you hear the explosive bursts outside. You raised your head to the dark prison door, hearing the clambering and clanking of weapons outside grow louder and louder.

You drew back into the corner further, not sure if that was a good commotion or a bad one. You didn’t have a second to guess before the door was blown open, shattered into a mess of splinters as what seemed like an army came through.

“Search the entire room- every cell! Don’t rest until you find her!” You started at the sound of Frederick’s voice. Was it really him?

“F-Frederick?” You called out carefully, just as the darkness was illuminated. There stood the lieutenant, his face glowing by Miriel’s Elfire tome. His eyes grew wide when he spotted you, and wasted no time darting to the door.

“Robin!!” He exclaimed, taking hold of the door. He smashed the lock open with the butt of his axe, forcing the rusty old thing off its hinges. You didn’t even get a chance to pick yourself up before Frederick was in front of you, drawing you into his embrace.

“Frederick…!” You whispered his name fiercely, throwing your arms around his neck as he pulled you into his chest. He buried his face in your hair, cupping your head tenderly. 

“I’m so glad we found you...were you hurt? What did they do to you?” He questioned, breaking away long enough to look you over. You averted your gaze, embarrassed by the state of yourself.

“T-they...they broke into the room just as I was finishing getting ready. Maribelle left me alone for only a second, but that was all they needed. I tried to fight them off, but t-there were so many, and they took me...beat me into the dirt, basically.”

Frederick bristled at your explanation, jaw clenched tight as he looked over all your wounds. “Oh, my heart...forgive me. If only we’d been there, sooner.”

“You couldn’t have known.” You shook your head, hiding your face in his neck. “I must have ruined your day. To think you had it all planned out, and the dress...oh, it was so lovely...now it’s ruined, just like me, and-”

“You’re not ruined.” He shook his head, stroking your hair tenderly. He squeezed you tight, the two of you away from the rest of the Shepherds. A group that, when they realized Frederick found you alright, were quick to give you some privacy.

“B-but I can’t go out, like this...I’m just...I’m covered in dirt and bruises and cuts and all this ugliness- it would look horrid in a wedding dress, and that’s even been ruined, too.”

“You’re beautiful.” He shook his head, pulling back to cup your cheek. “You’re beautiful, Robin. Whether you’re bloodstained or spotless, you’ll always be lovely to me.”

“Frederick…” You breathed, feeling the tears finally brim in your eyes. Your lip trembled, and you pressed into his hand, trying desperately to hide the droplets that streamed down your cheeks. “I-I’m so sorry…!”

“It’s all right.” He promised, “We’ll get you out of here, and Libra will have you taken care of. We can postpone the wedding until you’re healed, and everything will be just fine. I promise.”

“I...I-I love you, so much.” Was all you could manage, before you pressed a longing kiss to his lips. Frederick returned it with just as much fervor, holding you as close as he could.

When you broke apart, he broke you free from the chains around you, and lifted you to his chest, carrying you out of the musty old prison. Chrom graciously covered you with his cape, glad to help in whatever way he could.

Frederick never once let you go, settling you in his lap as the group returned to the castle, Hebert walking far slower than the frantic gallop his master had set him to mere hours ago. 

He stayed by your side as you were healed and treated, the lieutenant making sure to visit you as often as he could while you recovered from your terrible event.

Once you were back to full health, you were treated to the most beautiful wedding of your life...far more lovely than you ever could have imagined.

With plenty of extra security, of course.


	38. Meeting Future Marc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your daughter from the future arrives, with a whole hoarde of Risen.

When you got the call that Risen were attacking a nearby village, the Shepherds were on the case. Morgan and Frederick were happy to guard your flanks, the three of you tearing through the onslaught of Risen.

Chrom had dispatched several of them, and the numbers appeared to be thinning. That is, until you realized it was only the first wave.

“Whoa, there are so many!!” Morgan exclaimed, as the three of you reached the top of the hill before a valley of Risen met your gaze.

“Yes, but nothing we can’t handle.” Frederick replied with a turn of his axe, digging his heels into Hebert’s sides. “I’ll clear a path, and the two of you can follow through with magic. It should take care of most...of...is that a civilian?”

Your eyes snapped to one of the hills just across the valley. Sure enough, a spark of blue magic went off, followed by several Risen exploding in its wake. Whoever it was knew what they were doing, but they fought alone.

“Chrom!! There’s a civilian across the way!!” You shouted to the Exalt, “We have to get them out!”

“Understood! We’ll hold the back lines!” Chrom confirmed before the three of you broke off, the new directive under way.

Frederick barreled in front of you and Morgan, tearing through the crowd without batting an eye. Decayed bodies were flung left and right, his focus glued on the only person out there. 

Slowly, he came closer, and he realized it was a young person. His brow furrowed, forcing his way forward with more strength. Could it be another child from the future? They didn’t appear to be wearing civilian clothes. They looked like they were ready for a fight.

“You there!!” Frederick shouted over the throngs of Risen, already hacking through half the crowd. Those who weren’t distracted by the death ball your family created were crawling up for the young fighter.

Frederick’s frown deepened; they were running out of steam, and magic. It wouldn’t be long before they were overrun.

“You must come down!!” Frederick shouted again, but this time, with results. The magician’s eyes fell to where Frederick fought, his blade finally bringing him to the foot of the hill. 

They shared a glance, and their eyes widened at the sight of him. Their hand reached out, a cry for help. 

“Papa!!”

Frederick froze. ‘Papa’?

He looked to his sides, the voice of the young girl focused only on him; Morgan and Robin were still a ways back. She was talking to him. 

It was then that he saw the dash of brown hair, and the eyes that so perfectly mirrored your own. Frederick gasped.

He had a daughter.

“Papa-!” She cried again, but she was choked by another wave of attacks. Frederick’s jaw clenched, a whole new wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He burst forward, tearing through the Risen with renewed strength.

“I’m coming!!” He roared over the massacre, each body bringing him a step closer to his daughter. His heart thundered in his chest, reaching further and further until…

Her hand grasped his, and he pulled her out of the sea of Risen, into his chest. The girl sobbed in relief, and flung her arms around his neck. He wasted no time, hoisting her onto Hebert and cutting away as many as he could.

“Hold on; your mother’s not far!” He promised, taking the shaken young woman down the hill. Robin and Morgan were already on their way to meeting him, the valley now taken by the Shepherds, and his family finishing off the remainders on the hill.

“Frederick! Is she all right?” You asked worriedly, already pulling out an elixir for good measure. Frederick nodded as he slowed Hebert to a stop, and carefully dismounted with the girl still in his arms. 

“You weren’t hurt, were you?” He questioned gently as she shook her head, slowly unfurling her arms around his neck. The girl couldn’t have been but a year younger than Morgan, if not two or three. She was smaller, but held just as much fire in her eyes, and equal intelligence to boot.

“N-no, Papa. I’m fine, thanks to you!” She assured him with a sweet smile. He returned it, realizing it matched hers. Morgan tilted his head, confused.

“Did you call him ‘Papa’?” His brow furrowed, as did yours. She turned and gasped, staring at Morgan as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Morgan!!” She exclaimed, practically tackling him into a hug. Your son yelped, nearly toppled by her sudden launch. “Oh, gods, I thought I was never gonna see you again! W-we all got separated, remember?”

“Actually, he doesn’t.” You intervened, prompting the girl to release him. “Morgan here has amnesia. He doesn’t remember much, but it seems you do; who are you, exactly?”

“O-oh, I’m Marc! Morgan’s my older brother, and this,” She gestured to Frederick with a grin, “Is my Papa! He’s one of the bravest knights in all Ylisse, you know!”

“I do,” You smiled softly as Frederick proudly stood taller, “Then...you know who I am?”

Marc paused to study you, her eyes narrowing. “Mm...no, I can’t say that I do. It’s only been the three of us for the longest I can remember.”

“And how long is that, exactly?”

“Since I was a baby!” She giggled, “I don’t ever remember having Mama around. Papa would tell stories all the time, but I don’t know all that much beyond her being a tactician, and the late Exalt’s best friend, and...having...hair that is the exact same color as yours…and that coat…”

“It seems this one comes from a different timeline.” You mused, seeing her eyes light up when she put the pieces together.

“Oh-! You must be my mother!! Can it really be true? I-I’ve only ever heard...I had no idea…!”

“It’s true!” Morgan chimed, “Robin’s my- er, I mean our- mother. Isn’t she amazing?” 

“Now Morga-aaah!” You were promptly tackled into a hug, though you weren’t as fortunate to keep your balance. Frederick flinched when the two of you fell, but Marc was far more distracted by the fact you existed.

“I’m so happy to meet you, Mama!! I knew that whoever married my Papa had to be the greatest woman in the world, but you...you seem so much better!”

 

“Yes, well...perhaps we can all get to know each other better back at camp. You have a few wounds that should be tended to, Marc.” Frederick pointed out, “Perhaps I should take you on my horse to be safe…”

“I’ll be fine, Papa!” She replied cheerfully, popping back up in an instant. She helped you up with that brilliantly blinding smile, “I want to walk with all of you! It’ll be more fun, that way. To think I’ve got my whole family back together again...ah, it’s been years…!”

She was quick to brush away the little tears that gathered in her eyes, causing yours to meet Frederick’s. Wherever Marc had come from was far more tragic than Morgan had. That, or Morgan was simply fortunate enough to not remember.

You wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders, just as Frederick pressed his kerchief gently to her cheek.

“Don’t worry, Marc. We’re all here now, and we plan to keep it that way.” You promised, “Now, won’t you tell us those stories you mentioned? The ones your father told you about me?”

“Oh, I have plenty of those!! He would go on and on about how beautiful and smart you were, and how intelligent and kind and strong you were, not to mention how ravishing you looked when you wore this one special outfit to the beach-”

“A-all right, perhaps we ought to hold off on these stories until later. I might have told them in the future, but I’ve not vetted them now.” Frederick quickly cut in before his daughter embarrassed him further.

You laughed, catching his hand as he walked alongside the three of you, Hebert loyally following behind. “I’m sure you told nothing but sweet things.”

“Well, considering they’re our children, I certainly wouldn’t have said anything otherwise. ...Heh...our children.” 

“We have more than one.” You chimed with a silly smile, “I know you always hoped for a larger family.”

Frederick nodded, the two of you watching as the siblings moved ahead, the two chattering away like the high-energy hummingbirds they were.

“Who knows? Maybe there are more after these two.” He added, “Though I don’t mind having just the two. They’re both so wonderful...and I feel we’re even now, since I have one child who remembers who I am.”

“So now we both get to be the favorite?” You chuckled, squeezing his hand. “I never thought you could be jealous of your own children.”

“Nonsense.” He brushed you off with a blush.

Morgan and Marc came back to the two of you just in time, Marc quick to take her father’s other hand and yours as well. Your newfound daughter stole your hearts in no time; Frederick’s protectiveness was practically a given, and Morgan’s was suddenly discovered.

You never realized Morgan was capable of that same steely glare until Owain started getting a little too friendly with his sister.

It would make for an interesting campaign, indeed.


	39. Selective Amnesia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick gets into a training accident and forgets everything before he first met you; including your three-year-old Morgan.

Your anxiety was great. Frederick was in the middle of training new recruits, when the butt of an axe suddenly struck his head. While he was very lucky it wasn’t the sharp edge, he’d fallen unconscious with a serious head injury.

Libra asked you to leave the room as he worked (head injuries were apparently very serious). For the last few hours it was you and your three-year-old, waiting impatiently for word on his condition.

“Gods, please let him be okay…” You whispered worriedly, arms tight over your chest.

“It’ll be all right, Robin. Frederick’s been through much worse than this!” Lissa offered.

“I’m afraid I need to hear that from someone in there.” You nodded towards the room, “A lot of bad things come from head trauma.”

“Lissa’s right, though.” Chrom spoke up, “Frederick’s a beast. I’m sure he’ll come out of there with his head held high, with nothing to worry about.”

You prepared your rebuttal to the naive Exalt’s words, but the door opened. Everyone’s eyes fell on the two figures; Libra helping Frederick through the doorway. You felt a wave of relief seeing him upright. He looked dazed with an ugly bruise on the side of his head, but everything else looked all right.

“Frederick!” The royals cried in unison, happily approaching the knight.

“Lord Chrom, Princess Lissa.” He regarded them, before leaning over to Libra. “I will be checking the records to ensure what you say is true. I’m sure I would recall hiring a new head medic.”

“Understood, Sir Knight.” Libra replied, before releasing him to the royals. You quirked an eyebrow, wondering what Frederick meant. But the serious frown on Libra’s face told you, you were about to find out. “Robin, come with me a moment. I need to speak with you.”

He pulled you aside, looking awfully grim. Your relief instantly dissipated. “What’s wrong? He’s fine, isn’t he?”

“There’s been a complication. It appears that he’s been struck with a case of selective amnesia.”

“…Come again?” You stared at him. Libra frowned sadly.

“To put it simply, he’s forgotten everything from a certain point. He didn’t recognize me, nor anyone who was in the room. I listed a number of names, but he didn’t know any of them. Cherche, Tharja, Priam…he barely remembers Raimi.”

“We didn’t meet Raimi until after the attack on Southtown five years ago.” You said lowly, feeling panic rise in his chest. “Has he forgotten- d-does he know who I am?”

“He knows who you are, but…you should know he doesn’t remember who you are to him. I mentioned you, and he asked what you were still doing with the Shepherds. He said that you’re-”

“Suspicious?” You finished. He nodded solemnly. Your heart dropped. “It can’t be… H-he doesn’t remember anything? Does he know we’re married? That Morgan’s his son?”

“I’m afraid not.” Libra confessed. Your throat closed, eyes darting to the little one trying to hurry and finish his drawing. He couldn’t show it to his father without finishing it, after all. 

“W-what should we do?” You asked, frightened of the possibilities. “I-is there anything we can do?”

“It’s unlikely this will be permanent, but there’s no telling how long it will last.” Libra folded his arms. “The best thing we can do is try to jog his memory. Show him things that remind him who you are.”

“Right. I can do that.” You exhaled heavily, “There are plenty of things that should help.”

“I won’t let you try to alone.” He promised, placing a hand on your shoulder. “For now, let’s go easy on him. Try not to startle him with too much informa-“

“Papa!!” Morgan’s excited cry made you both freeze. Your gaze snapped to the little boy bouncing up to his father, holding a paper tight in his hand. “Papa, I made this for you!!”

You broke away from Libra to try and catch the boy mid-flight, but to no avail. “Morgan, wait a-”

“What?” Frederick stared at the child who careened into his leg. “Beg pardon, lad, but I’m not your father.”

“Yes you are!!” He giggled, “See? I made this for you! Mama said you’d like it when you waked up!”

Frederick reluctantly took the paper Morgan held out, eyes narrowed as he looked at the picture. “And where is she? Shouldn’t she be taking care of you?”

“She is!” He chirped, just as Frederick registered the scene. In it was a crudely drawn version of himself, holding the three-fingered hand of the boy, and a woman who looked an awful lot like- “She’s right there!”

He stared at you.

You hurried forward and pulled Morgan away from Frederick. You eyed him warily, looking flustered, worried and kind of hopeful, all in one. Frederick’s brow furrowed.

“You…you’re this boy’s mother?” He questioned, making the entire room fall silent. Then he saw it. The same eyes and nose that you had, paired with Frederick’s hair and smile. His face paled. “It can’t be-”

“Frederick, don’t panic-”

“You couldn’t possibly be- we didn’t- w-we aren’t-!” Frederick’s expression contorted. He was horrified, almost disgusted. Your heart twisted at the sight.

“Yes, it’s true. Morgan’s your son, and we’re married. The ring on your finger should serve as proof enough.” You said as gently as you could, working to ignore the look on his face.

“That’s impossible. I’ve no reason to trust you beyond Lord Chrom, yet you claim that we’ve a family? This is madness!”

“Frederick, what are you talking about?” Chrom spoke up, looking to his friend. “The two of you’ve been married for almost six years!”

“Milord, with all due respect, I have no idea what you’re talking about. As far as I’m concerned, this woman is under absolute scrutiny.”

“Libra, what’s going on?” Chrom demanded, “Why is he acting like he just met Robin all over again?”

“The blow he suffered affected his memory, milord.” Libra explained, “There’s not much we can do until it comes back.”

“When is that supposed to be?” Lissa asked next, looking terribly worried for your sake. 

“There’s no telling, milady. All we can do is wait. And pray.” He added, bowing his head. “Now I think we should work on trying to restore his memory.”

The six of you exited the room, following Libra’s instruction. The walk was uncomfortable, seeing as Frederick’s icy glare was fixed on you and Morgan the whole time. The little boy nearly burst into tears when he saw it.

You weren’t sure how much of this you’d be able to take.

* * *

The day was long and painful. Frederick was taken to the library, where Libra informed him of various events that happened in the blank space of Frederick’s memory.

He looked completely confused. You helped as much as you could, just as Morgan did by trying to draw Frederick pictures to bring back memories.

Although your husband was still extremely wary of his tiny lookalike, he was gentle. The boy did all he could, until he fell asleep on your lap. You hoped everything would be back to normal in the morning. Libra mentioned how memory sometimes returned overnight.

_‘I hope he’s right.’_ You thought to yourself, trailing behind Frederick with Morgan asleep on your shoulder. ‘The sooner he comes back, the sooner everything’ll go back to normal.’

It was all you could hope for as you made your way back. Then Frederick stopped. He looked back at you, visibly tense in the moonlight.

“Is there a reason you’re following me?” He asked coldly. You frowned, shifting your son.

“I live here too, you know. We both do.” You stated, to which Frederick huffed. 

“You realize I can’t allow you to stay here. Not while I’m an ‘amnesiac’, which I don’t believe for a second, mind you.” He replied. You worked hard to hide the offense on your face.

“What do you mean, ‘allegedly’? Did you miss the massive bruise on your head?”

“I find it difficult to believe that we are married, and we have a-” Frederick cut himself off, glancing at the toddler. “A child. What if you cast a hex on me, and that blow cured me?”

“What the-” You fought to keep your voice low, “Are you completely insane?”

“I’ve no more reason to believe I’m an amnesiac like you. I most certainly don’t believe that I married someone I barely trust. Therefore, I cannot allow you to stay here.”

“Unbelievable.” You shook your head in disbelief. “Frederick, there’s plenty of proof it’s true! For example,” You brushed past him, shoving a hand in your pocket and drawing out a key. “You had this made for me.”

He tensed when you unlocked the door, pushing inside. “N-now wait just a moment-”

“You’ll find your office is now Morgan’s bedroom, which you built the furniture for. Your desk is in the living area.” You gestured to the office. Sure enough, it was now a child’s bedroom. He spotted his insignia on a nightstand, which only perplexed him more.

“Impossible.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to put Morgan to bed.” You said icily, “At the very least you could find it in your heart to let him sleep in his room.”

“I…suppose I can allow it.” Frederick conceded, “But be quick. I can’t have you here.”

You were too tired to argue. After all, it’s not like he could help it. You trudged into Morgan’s bedroom, and gently lowered him onto the bed. You tucked him in, pressed a kiss to his forehead, and moved to leave him be.

“…Mama?” You paused when you heard Morgan’s groggy voice. You turned to look at him, going back to his beside.

“I thought you were asleep, sweetheart. What are you doing awake?” You mused, stroking his hair.

“Does Papa not love us anymore?” The question almost broke your heart. You quickly shook your head, kneeling beside him.

“Of course he loves us, Morgan. He’ll always love us, he’s just...confused, right now. He’s scared, because he doesn’t remember who we are.”

“B-but if he doesn’t remember, how does he know he loves us?” He asked with teary eyes.

“Deep down, he knows it. We just have to remind him, that’s all. And we will, I promise.” You assured him, kissing his cheek. “Just be patient until he gets better.”

“O...okay.” Morgan sniffled, “A-are you gonna go away?”

“I won’t be far.” You said as you rose, “I’ll sleep right outside the door, if I have to.”

“O-okay, Mama.” He managed a wobbly smile, “Sleep good.”

“Thank you, my sweet.” You gave him one last kiss. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Your eyes fell shut, grimacing as you leaned against the door. Now you had a worried child on top of a wary husband. You thought all you wanted was to see your husband alive and well. This wasn’t what you had in mind.

“Is…he all right?” You heard Frederick’s voice in front of you, and opened your eyes to find him looking at you. You quickly recovered yourself, and pushed off the door. 

“He’ll be fine.” You said half-heartedly, “He was just worried about you. He’s never seen his Papa act like this, after all.”

“I see…” Frederick murmured, eyebrows drawing together. “If you don’t mind, I…I want to speak with you.” He finally said, gesturing for you to follow him.

You sat across from each other in the den, both stiff. Frederick pursed his lips, trying to find something to say.

“Robin, I…realize that I may have not been treating you fairly. That is- despite how suspicious I’ve been, you continue to try and help me, more than others.”

“It’s the least I can do.” You fiddled with the ring on your finger, “We’re married, after all.”

“About that.” Frederick responded, “I didn’t give you an opportunity to explain yourself. I thought it best to let you prove that true. Tell me what you know about me.”

“Well...I know you can’t stand gamey meats.” You began fondly, instantly capturing Frederick’s attention. “You’ve got a fear of large animals because of an incident when you were a child. You’ve been very diligent in making sure the same hasn’t happened to Morgan.”

Frederick grunted, deep in thought. You took it as a cue to continue. “I know you love building fires, and you’re brilliant at fighting. I also know you’re very gentle, and passionate when you’re not training recruits.”

“I-I see.” He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. You giggled softly, a sound that seemed to relax him. It was a familiar sound, he noted, he wouldn’t mind hearing more of.

“I know you’re a wonderful father, too. Every night when you came home, you’d take extra care to make sure I was all right while I was pregnant. You’d always talk to him, right up until he was born. When you held him the first time, you cried to him instead.”

“That sound like something I would do.” He admitted bashfully. For the first time all day, a grin touched your lips. “At least there’s some proo it must not be a ruse.”

The two of you sat in the silence for a little while, processing everything you said. But you knew better than to push your luck. “…Ah, well. There’ll be more to discover another night. I should leave you alone so you can rest.”

“A-about that.” He stopped you, standing along with you. “Perhaps you should stay here for the night. You could sleep here, on the couch. I’m sure it would be more comfortable than whatever you have planned, and...I am uncomfortable with watching over a child.” 

“Considering I have no idea where to go, that’s perfect.” You said gratefully. Frederick was swift in preparing it for you, all the while stealing glances at you. There was something familiar about the way you moved, how you regarded him.

He knew you hadn’t made it up. There was definitely love between you. What he had with you, he wanted to find again. Gods only knew how long it would take.

* * *

Unfortunately, it was longer than one night. Several days of non-stop work passed. So many nights of restlessly tossing about on the couch, speaking with Frederick when neither of you could sleep.

Although it brought you closer together, there was still the fissure of amnesia.

“It’s never going to happen, is it?” You asked yourself, facing the back of the sofa with a hopeless frown. “He’ll never come back around.”

The thought hurt you, deeply. To have lost everything you built, after everything.

“This is my punishment, right?” You mumbled, directing it to the goddess that stole you away. “Because I left him alone for two years. This is what I get, isn’t it?”

You laughed, sadly. The man you fought to love, gone in an instant.

“Gods, Naga…” You whispered, drawing the blankets tighter around you, “I just want my husband back.”

You didn’t realize your prayer hadn’t fallen on deaf ears.

* * *

_‘It’s so…warm.’_ You hummed contentedly, eyes cracking open to soft morning light. That was odd; the couch usually blocked the sunlight.

Then you realized the thin blanket was replaced with a thick comforter. The couch cushions were soft and delightfully cozy. You nestled into the plush pillow, relishing the bed.

_‘…Wait a minute. Bed?’_ Your eyes snapped open. You pushed off the blankets; sure enough, you were in bed. Frederick wasn’t, but the spot beside you was still warm.

The sizzling of a pan in the kitchen alerted you to where he was. Which meant he must’ve known you were in the bedroom, and he was beside you. 

You quickly slipped out of bed and grabbed your robe. The belt was barely tied around your waist when you saw Frederick, his back to you as he fried some eggs.

It couldn’t be, you thought, staring at his familiar movements. Was he…?

“Ah, there you are. Good morning, Robin.” Frederick greeted you, glancing back at you with a kind smile. “Did you get enough sleep, last night?”

“I-I…” You stared at him, dumbfounded. He sounded a lot less formal.

“I found you asleep on the couch. I thought we agreed to cut back on the overworking, but I suppose you can’t help it, sometimes.” He mused, unaware of the shock you wore.

“F-Frederick,” You choked out, “Are you- is your memory back? Are you back?”

“What do you mean? Did I leave?” He asked innocently. You didn’t grace his question with an answer. 

“Oh, thank the gods!!” You cried, barreling into his chest. Frederick grunted, barely keeping his balance when you crashed into him. “I-I missed you so much!”

“My goodness.” Frederick laughed incredulously, returning your embrace. “I must have gone off on a strange mission. Did something happen?”

“You don’t remember?” You pulled away, “You were hit in the head during training, and lost your memory. Y-you didn’t remember me or Morgan. You have no idea how worried we were- not to mention how infuriating it was dealing with your wariness.”

“I can’t believe it.” Frederick said, astounded. “I don’t remember any of that. You’re sure that happened?” 

“You forced me to sleep on the couch for nearly two weeks! How could I forget?” You chuckled, albeit tiredly. Frederick frowned, looking almost guilty.

“Oh, dear. You must forgive me, my love. I had no idea- I must have treated you horribly to ground you on the couch. I’ll find a way to make it up to you. Perhaps I should spend a few nights there, in your stead.”

“Don’t be silly.” You buried your face in his chest, “I’m just glad you’re back. But if you insist, you could make it up to me by finishing that breakfast, and then squeezing a little time back in bed.”

“I’ll make the arrangements.” He decided, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “It sounds like I have a lot that I have to make up to you and Morgan.”

“Believe me, you do.” You grinned mischievously, pecking his cheek. “But it’s nothing a little quality time together can’t fix.”

Frederick beamed at you, stroking your cheek tenderly. “Whatever it takes, my dear. I’ll make sure you’ll never forget it.”


	40. Possession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Robin is possessed and tries to kill Frederick and Morgan...and crumbles to pieces when she realizes what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Sorry for taking so long to update!! School and other prompts for other characters have really taken up my time, not to mention all the other things I've been doing on top of those!  
> Thank you for your patience!! ;; v ;; /

He didn’t know how it happened. It was all a blur- you were there one moment, perfectly fine, and the next you were launching at him and Morgan, throwing blades of magic at them with nothing but the most frightening lethality.

“Mother-!” Morgan yelped as you struck out at him, your attack narrowly missing his side. Frederick cut in before Morgan, countering your attack with a swift jab from the butt of his spear.

You weren’t yourself, but he’d be damned if he hurt you with his own hands.

“Morgan, go! Get help- someone who can reverse her possession!” Frederick ordered him, standing his ground as you backed away, glaring evenly at him. He met your glassy, displaced anger with a steely look of his own. “I’ll hold her off.”

“B-but Father, her magic’s too strong! She could-!”

“This isn’t up for debate!!” Frederick shouted him down as he swung out at you, pushing you further back before you attempted to counter him, yourself. “Get help!!”

Morgan knew better than to linger a second longer, as much as he may have wanted to. He swallowed his fears and burst from the scene, leaving Frederick to defend himself, and his son, from you.

His wife.

His heart twisted at the thought, but he did little to fight with himself over it. You had been caught by a dark mage, and you had been possessed. You were little more than a lifeless doll, which frightened him all the more.

Frederick matched you blow for blow, but there was a strange new ferocity in every movement. You growled and raged at him with each strike, your magic starting to overpower him.

Then he made a mistake.

A turn of the foot in the wrong direction, miscalculating your next move. Your hand met with his chest plate before you blasted him backwards, and a burst of Arcwind sent him flying through the air. 

He barely cried out before he slammed into the unforgiving base of a tree, groaning in pain. The wind was so sharp it had cut through several pieces of armor, leaving him battered and vulnerable. He hated how weak he was against magic, almost as much as he hated magic, itself.

But he didn’t have time to think on it. He pushed himself up with a strained grunt, panting as he tried to spot you and get back on the defensive. His vision cleared enough to spot you, but you weren’t charging after him. You sprinted away, headed in the same direction as Morgan.

“No…!” Frederick struggled back to his feet, and broke away from his fractured armor to run you down. He hadn’t given Morgan enough time to get away.

The odds of you finding him and attacking were higher than he liked. He grit his teeth as he rushed, spotting the flash of your hair as you closed in. 

Morgan was only a few meters ahead.

“Morgan!!” Frederick shouted, “Behind you!!” 

You shot a volley of magic at Morgan’s back, who turned just in time to duck out of the way. Frederick poured on speed, ignoring the shrieking pain in his muscles as he fought to catch you before you killed your son.

The icy fear in his gut at the very thought pushed him faster with an angry shout.

“D-Dad!!” 

You sprung towards your son with a maniacal laugh, the demonic red glow of your eyes freezing the boy in his tracks. 

The attack never connected with him.

Morgan looked on in horror as Frederick towered over him, his body between you and him. Frederick’s side was painted red as you plunged the knife of magic into him.

“DAD!!”

“Morgan...g-go...get...get…” Frederick whispered hoarsely, and he collapsed to the ground. Morgan fell to his father’s side, eyes wide in shock as he stared at the man who protected him.

Your body crumpled to the forest floor seconds after.

The last thing Frederick remembered was seeing your eyes open, hearing Morgan scream, and the two of you sobbing so terribly over him. It was all a blur; one that faded to black.

* * *

The sunlight was filtering lazily through the tent when Frederick finally came to. He blinked up at the canvas ceiling, eyes unfocused and hazy.

However, he felt fine.

Frederick’s brow furrowed as he slowly sat up, pausing when he felt a twinge in his side. Memories came flooding back to him in an instant; you had stabbed him.

You were fighting him, possessed by an enemy mage, hurling attack after attack-- you chased Morgan, almost had him, and then-

Frederick sighed shakily, pushing up from his cot and grabbing his shoes. He was still dressed, thank goodness, though he was quick to change out of his soiled vest and shirt for a fresh replacement.

He knew he looked rough, but he was far more focused on finding his family. The last he remembered of you was seeing that evil red glow in your eyes, and Morgan’s horror.

His jaw clenched as he strode to the healing tent, trying to catch sight of you. Asking around pointed him to the direction of the clerics, and Libra was the first to catch him.

“Sir Frederick, it’s good to see you awake,” He smiled softly, strained, “But it may be best you stay away from the healing tent, for now.”

“Pray tell, why?” Frederick demanded, “Is Robin in there? Morgan? A-are they all right?” 

“They’re fine.” Libra rushed to tell him, “They’re both expected to make a full recovery, but Robin...she requested isolation.”

“What?” Frederick breathed with widened eyes, before his frustration returned stronger than before. “Why would she ask for that?”

“She was quite shaken by what happened, Frederick. She almost killed you, and your son. She was beside herself with grief, and wanted time alone to process what happened.”

“Should she not want to see me and know that I’m all right?” Frederick reasoned, contemplating pushing past the priest entirely.

Libra frowned worriedly and shook his head, “I’m not certain why. But it would be best to respect her wishes, Frederick. A-at least until she’s of a mind to see you.”

“Libra, I cannot do that.” Frederick shook his head, “I have to see her. I know that if she were to look at me, it would put her mind at ease. I must relieve her of her guilt, which I know she’s feeling. She must know...please, Libra. You must grant me this much.” 

“I…” Libra trailed off, seeing how passionate Frederick was. The fact he hadn’t already overridden the healer’s rank was impressive. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before he tried.

The instant Libra stepped aside, Frederick rushed into the tent. He scanned the cots, both empty and filled, no sign of Morgan. Libra must’ve discharged him to rest in his own tent. His search came to an end when he looked to the farthest corner of the place, a sheet partitioning the last bed from the others.

Frederick’s shoulders relaxed, and with a deep breath he headed over, his steps all but silent. He could see the edge of your legs, your small form hidden beneath the sheets.

He steeled himself, took one more breath, and called softly, “Robin?”

You froze. Frederick brushed back your partition, entering your private space. He made eye contact with you, and the first thing he noticed was no more red.

The second thing was how wide they were; you looked like a deer caught before a carriage. Blood drained from your already pale face, your hands beginning to tremble the longer you stared up at him.

Frederick gave a worried smile, coming to your bedside. “I’m relieved to see you’re all right.” 

You didn’t respond. Cautiously, Frederick took a seat beside the bed, watching as your frightened expression didn’t change.

“That possession curse didn’t leave any ill side effects, did it? I would be beside myself if you suffered still. A-and if you’re worried about Morgan, you needn’t be. Libra assured me he’s recovering nicely, as have I. We’re both all right.”

With a careful hand, Frederick reached forward, looking to take one of yours. Your whole body was shaking, now.

“Are...are you?”

His fingers barely closed around yours when you slapped him away. Tears brimmed in your eyes, body shaking as you croaked, “Don’t.”

“Robin?”

“D-don’t touch me, I...I-I could’ve...I-I’ll hurt you.”

“Robin...that wasn’t you.” Frederick tried to reason, reaching out to you again. “It was the curse. You don’t need to be afraid of-”

“I saw it!!” You suddenly yelped, shoving his arm away before he could touch you. Each pull away from him made his heart break more, the sorrow of seeing you so shattered rattling him to his core. 

You were his rock, and you had been broken apart from the inside out.

“I saw what I did.” You repeated with a whimper, looking away from him and curling in on yourself. You hugged yourself tightly, trying to hide the trembles all over your body as you recalled what happened. “I attacked Morgan...I stabbed you...I-I could’ve killed you both…”

“But you did not, my love. You most certainly did not. I am still here, see?” He whispered gently to you, trying to coax your gaze back to him. “We’re both strong, your boys. Have some faith in us.”

 

“B-but Frederick, it was out of your control- out of mine!! I-I tried so hard to stop it, b-but I wasn’t strong enough, and...and...I’m just…I’m a horrible person. I can’t bear to even look at you...h-how ashamed you must be of me.” 

Frederick’s heart could only handle so much as you broke down into sobs before him, hiding everything from him as if you had committed a great travesty against your husband.

He grit his teeth and shook his head, waiting no longer.

Frederick grasped your arm with such force it could’ve bruised, snapping your attention to him. You couldn’t even squeak out a protest before you were drawn into his chest, engulfed in his embrace.

“I could _never_ be ashamed of you.”

Your shaking instantly stopped. Your eyes widened as you were pressed into his strong, warm frame, his heartbeat much faster but just as healthy as ever. His hands curled into your tunic, his lips pressed into your hair.

“Don’t blame yourself for this. You were not at fault. You couldn’t have helped it even if you wanted to- none of us could’ve. Morgan and I don’t blame you for any of this, nor do any of the Shepherds. Please, my darling, don’t cry. Don’t be afraid. You won’t hurt us. You won’t.”

Your vision blurred the deeper into him he pulled you, the tears building in your eyes making it impossible to see. Your lips curled into a sneer, and you choked out a sob. Then another, and another. 

Then you collapsed into his arms and full on bawled against your husband, clutching onto him as if your life depended on it.

“I’m sorry!! I-I-I’m so sorry, Frederick, I’m s-so…!!” 

“Shh...it’s all right, my sweet. My precious, beautiful wife.” His brow furrowed as he felt you mourn in his arms, blinking back his own tears as he squeezed you tight. “I’m just so thankful that you came back to me at all. I feared I would never see you again.”

You shook your head against him, unable to form a coherent sentence. Frederick laughed weakly, and stroked your hair.

“But you’re here, now. It’s all right. Just let it out, Robin. ...My darling Robin…”

You didn’t know how long you cried with Frederick, nor how long it was before you cried yourself to sleep. Frederick cradled you close the entire time, his warmth soothing every rough edge of grief that had defined your thoughts the last several days.

It would be a while before you trusted yourself, again. Longer still before you could truly touch and love your family, but they were there for you every step of the way. For Frederick, that meant countless hugs and reassuring touches every single day.

Of course, he was more than happy to oblige.


	41. The Bath Tent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick catches Chrom peeping on you in the bath tent (accidentally, but...neither of you know that).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bath tent prompts are always popular on the tumblr blog, so I figured I'd bring Fred's over here for you to enjoy! lol

When Frederick heard your scream across camp, he was terrified. Had you been assaulted? Ambushed, or worse?

He grabbed his lance and sprinted off, rushing towards your cries and curses when he found himself in the midst of a very strange scene.

There stood Lord Chrom, the flaps to the women’s bathing tent wide open, and dozens of projectiles. He quickened his pace with the intent to drag Chrom out of the line of fire and engage whoever was throwing things at him.

However, when he came in sight of the thrower, he realized it was  _you;_ wrapped crudely in a towel, soaked from head to toe with suds still running along your skin, mid-throw of the last soap dish. His grip tightened on Chrom’s arm. The Exalt was peeping on  _his wife._

“Would someone please explain what in the gods’ names is going on?!” Frederick demanded icily, quick to turn Chrom away from his view of you. He had yet to release the man, much to his discomfort.

“I-I was just looking for Robin to ask her a question, Frederick! I didn’t realize where I was until she started screaming, a-and then…it was an accident, I swear! I didn’t mean to-”

“Accident?!” You suddenly jumped in, storming over to the pair now covered with your coat. Your face was a deep scarlet, fury barely overruling your embarrassment. “It’s the women’s _bath!_  How hard is it for you to see  that?!”

“She has a point, milord. Surely  _you_  should be familiar with the camp’s layout.” Frederick replied, narrowing his eyes at Chrom. “I find it hard to believe you capable of this, but it brings me terrible sorrow and, dare I say,  _fury_ , to see you staring at my wife.” He said, and had Chrom shaking  in his boots.

“F-Frederick I swear, I didn’t mean to peep on her, a-and that’s the bare truth!”

Frederick’s brow twitched.

“I-I mean naked truth-“

_“Lord Chrom.”_

_“_ I-I just mean the truth!!!” Chrom would’ve disappeared if he could. “Please Frederick, Robin’s my best friend! I’d never jeopardize that.”

“I want to believe you, milord,” Frederick said in a clipped tone as he released the Exalt. He sighed sharply and came to your side, “However, your actions speak louder than words. For now, return to your duties until I summon you for proper disciplinary action. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir.” Chrom sounded meek and frightened; two things you never thought him capable of.

You watched him trudge off for a few moments before Frederick guided you away, taking your hand tightly in his. The ridged, angry confliction in his expression had yet to fade.

“Until I make my decision, we should get you properly dressed. If I’m not mistaken, I believe you’re in need of clothes beneath that coat.”

“Y-you’re not.” You blushed, the adrenaline and shock of what happened to you slowly starting to fade. Frederick picked up on the warble in your voice swiftly, and could see the unshed tears glistening in your eyes.

He made good time returning to the tent, latching the flap shut and making sure it was absolutely secure. Then he turned his full attention to you, assessing the situation.

You looked down at your feet, your hand never once letting go of his. You had been mortified, and now that the anger cleared, you were nothing short of ashamed.

Wordlessly he detached his chestplate and the armor about his upper body, knowing precisely what you needed. You barely got a question out of your mouth before he  drew you into his embrace.

“F-Frederick…?”

“Forgive me. I was not diligent enough in protecting you.” He murmured in a soft, remorseful whisper that had you frozen. “I failed you, and for that, I must apologize to you, my love.”

“You’re not the one who walked in on me.” You giggled weakly, but reciprocated his hug all the same. You buried your face in his chest, your hot tears dampening his clothes along with your soaking hair.

Frederick didn’t mind it. His fingers gently stroked your sopping hair as you cried silently, the guilt that racked him far more powerful than his anger.

“It’ll be all right, my sweet. I highly doubt he did such a thing on purpose. The odds of him speaking to anyone about it is minimum, and if he even considers it I’ll be swift to punish. …Severely.”

All you could do was nod against him, calming yourself down slowly with the help of his gentle touches and reassurances.

At some point he settled you on the bedroll, fetched a towel and worked on drying your hair very gently. His tender touch soothes your shame, all the anxiety and fear you felt as a result of the mad debacle starting to ebb away.

You sigh after some time and bury your face in your hands, letting him continue his sweet ministrations.

“I can’t believe he did that…he  _saw_  me, Frederick. Gods, I’m never gonna live it down. It was so embarrassing…and then for  _you_  to come and see him, too…” You groaned, and he frowned softly.

“I think no less of you for what happened; you needn’t be ashamed.” He assured you, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “It was an extremely unfortunate accident…at least, that is how I prefer to view it  unless evidence proves otherwise.”

“You really want it to be an accident, don’t you?” You mumbled, slowly turning to look at him. Frederick shifted some and gave a soft grunt, brow furrowed.

“I know that Lady Emmeryn raised him properly, and I was quite strict and attentive, myself. He was brought up with strong morals, and the idea of him peeping on anyone, let alone you, my beloved, is difficult to believe. Lord Chrom is well known for being oblivious, after all.”

“Even to this level?” You replied, unconvinced.

“I wish to punish him severely, my sweet. There is a rage…white and hot that is building whenever I think that he looked upon you…gods, it is infuriating. However, he is also my liege, and the years we’ve spent together, I simply…I find it hard to believe he’d do it on purpose.”

“I want to believe it, too. I hope that your investigation brings about an innocent Exalt.” You offered with a tired sigh, leaning your head against his chest. Frederick set the towel aside and drew his arms around you, his soothing warmth returning and relaxing your tension.

“As do I. …However, regardless of the results, he will still receive harsh punishment.” He stated seriously, making you smile against his skin.

“Harsh, you say? How harsh would you be?”

“Well, we mustn’t forget that it was my wife he looked upon. Therefore, if he did it purposely, he will be worked until his limbs cannot be lifted anymore. Verbal reprimands will carry on for several hours, followed by an extensive lesson on conduct in the army, and three times the chores for the following year.”

“My goodness.” You blushed, “How valiant of you.”

“It is the least I can do for you, Robin. Besides, that’s only off the top of my head. I still have plenty of options to think up.”

“Look at you, defending me as knight and husband.” You smirked up at him, brushing your fingers across his cheek. He took your hand gently and kissed your fingertips, beaming at you.

“I swore to do so, did I not?”

“You did, however…I feel as though I should repay you for your efforts.”

“There is no need for a reward. Easing your worries and bringing justice to milord is reward enough.”

“Then perhaps you could help me with something, instead.So long as you don’t think of it like a reward, it should work just fine.”

‘What’s that?”

“Well, Chrom’s eyes did wander a bit. He saw an awful lot of me, you know.” You began, fiddling with the buttons on your coat. “And…I’m not wearing anything beneath this.”

Frederick was very quick to catch on, and grasped your waist, turning you into the bedding and helping you remove the coat.

“Tell me where he looked at you, my precious wife…I will erase his gaze from your body.” He promised with a swift, deep kiss, which was quick to delve into far deeper, sweeter intimacy between you.

Chrom didn’t really see anything, thanks to the thickness of the steam. However, you weren’t about to tell Frederick that, especially not after he ravished you so (and punished Chrom for his foolishness promptly after. The poor Exalt couldn’t look you in the eye for weeks afterwards).


	42. Sick Little Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Morgan gets a bit sick, but Frederick's ready to handle it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1st of 2-chapter update!

You knew he had a knack for freaking out, but you’d never seen him quite as panicked as you did that evening.

Morgan came into the bedroom just as you were winding down in bed, complaining that his stomach hurt terribly. You had barely gotten the question if he wanted some bread out before he vomited on the stone floor.

Frederick was up in an instant, his voice naught but a yelp as he called Morgan’s name. He plucked the child from the bedroom and carted him straight into your washroom, producing a bucket for the child to use, instead.

He instructed you to fetch the ginger root from the kitchen and grind up a clove or two. Side-stepping the puke on the floor, you quickly mixed in the herb with a small cup of water.

When you returned, Morgan was clutching onto Frederick’s nightshirt and trembling, tears in his eyes. A nauseous stomach was traumatic for a four-year-old.

“P-Papa, I don’t f-feel so go-od…” Morgan croaked, holding onto his father for dear life. You passed the ginger to Frederick silently, kneeling beside him and resting your hand on Morgan’s back.

“Here, son, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.” Frederick coaxed the boy to let go, handing him the drink. Morgan gulped it down obediently, before he went right back to latching onto his father.

“Is it a virus?” You asked worriedly, trying to deduce his symptoms. Frederick shook his head, frown deep as he stroked his son’s back.

“He does not have a fever. It’s likely he ate something that didn’t sit well with him, or perhaps was not prepared as it should have been. I am certain it will pass after tonight, but…for now, I will stay with him. You ought to return to bed.”

“Are you sure?” You asked warily, looking at your trembling little boy. He was in a daze, looking out of sorts and a bit green.

“You have a long day tomorrow, if I’m not mistaken, and you did not get to bed ‘til late. I can take care of this.” He reassured you, easing down so that he sat on the floor, leaning against the back wall. You squeezed his shoulder, beaming at your husband.

“You’re an angel.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “If you need anything else for him or yourself, just call for me. I’m his mother and your wife too, after all.”

“Thank you, my love.” He managed to give you a sweet smile before you left, and his attention returned fully to his little one.

You woke early that morning, realizing Frederick still hadn’t come back to bed. You quickly caught on to the fact that he had never returned.

Walking into the bathroom, you spotted him still sitting against the wall, Morgan fast asleep on his chest. The bucket had been washed clean, as had the spot on the floor. Frederick looked exhausted, but you knew he wouldn’t mind it.

Color had returned to Morgan’s face, although he was put to bed the rest of the day to recover properly. You knew Frederick was more than happy to help…and you were more than happy to thank him for his hard work with a massage or two for that poor stiff back of his.


	43. Morgan Plays Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Morgan tries to play dead to sneak up on Risen but it all goes horribly, horribly wrong (based off of the Morgan-Inigo "Hot Spring Scramble" convo).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd of 2-chapter update!!

He was only trying to find a way to help. He wracked his brain for the best possible strategy, and the playing dead in the water seemed the best way.

Even Inigo agreed! He thought it was a great idea.

So they hit the water, pretended to be dead, and waited for the Risen to strike. When they came close enough, Inigo would lash out, followed by a combo with Morgan.

It was simple, it was efficient, and it was working perfectly. He just forgot that only he and Inigo knew they were playing dead.

“MORGAN!!”

He hadn’t heard your scream below the water’s surface, his face completely submerged in order to maintain his acting.

His father, however, heard it clearly.

Frederick snapped up at the sound of your voice, spotting you across the battlefield. You were running towards one of the springs, tears streaming down your face. You were in hysterics. He followed your rush until he spotted his son.

Face down in the water. He wasn’t moving.

“No…!” Frederick gasped, his heart in his throat. He yanked Hebert around and broke into a gallop, making a break for the spring. “MORGAN!!”

This was supposed to be a break from fighting. This wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. _Morgan wasn’t supposed to die._

He beat you to the spring by a matter of seconds. He leapt from his horse and fell to his knees, grabbing Morgan under his chest and yanking him from the water.

“Morgan-! Morgan, wake up!!” Frederick clutched the boy to his chest, whose eyes had popped wide open.

Morgan spluttered for air, spitting out spring water and looking like a wet rag. The moment he took in air you were beside him and sobbing against Frederick’s shoulder.

“My baby…o-oh, gods, my baby!!” You wailed. It shook Frederick, and shell-shocked Morgan. You were breaking down in front of them both.

“We need a healer!!” Frederick shouted, as Morgan’s hand came to his chest. “Morgan, just hold on, we’ll get you help, just focus on breathing-”

“F-Father, Mother, I’m-”

“Don’t strain yourself– just focus on breathing-”

“I’m f-fine, it was just a strategy gone-”

Morgan could barely get a word in edgewise, especially between your tears and Frederick’s attempts to reassure him. When the healers crowded around him, he felt horrible.

He made a grave miscalculation.

It wasn’t long before Morgan felt the repercussions of his poor decision making.

When he revealed to his parents that it was just a strategy, and nothing more, he received quite an earful. That is, after his mother calmed down enough to let him go.

After Lissa had released him and Frederick helped him to his feet, you had launched into him and clutched him to your chest, crying into his hair. When he managed to pull back, he could see Frederick wiping away his own tears as discreetly as possible.

Oh, his poor parents.

* * *

“Morgan, what in the hells were you thinking?!” Frederick snapped at him once they returned to the privacy of his parents’ tent. Frederick was absolutely fuming, while you sat beside him with his hand tightly grasped in yours.

“I-I swear to you, Father, this was not my intention! I-if I’d known just how bad that it would look, I never would’ve considered such a strategy!”

“Your intentions are irrelevant, son! Several Shepherds thought you dead!! Your parents– we saw you and thought we lost you! Do you have any idea how horrifying it is to see your child turned over in the water?”

“N-no, sir.”

“Morgan, you have only just been born in this time. To see you in such a state, to believe we had lost you at such a young age from the future, and having you now, it…it is unspeakable, the fear we felt. We thought we lost our most precious son. Do you see how your actions have an affect on those around you, now?”

“Yes, sir. I-I…I really am sorry, Father. I never meant to hurt anyone, I just…I was only trying to help.” Morgan tried to reason, knowing full well he had made a grave miscalculation.

Your sniffling had quickly died down as you listened to Frederick’s scolding, and seeing just how sorry your son was. Of course he hadn’t meant any harm by it, he was your son. Your little Morgan.

“Morgan, you…are a brilliant young man, and a very promising tactician. We admire how you are always looking for new ways to improve your strategies and help others. But I must beg you, never do something like that, again.” You finally spoke up, capturing both your boys’ attention.

“I swear on my life, Mother, I’ll never do a thing like it ever again.” Morgan promised sincerely, “Seeing how frightened you both were…hearing how upset you were by it, I…I-I just feel so terrible. I love you both so much, and I would never want to do anything that would hurt you, n-not in a million years! I-I just thought…well, I mean, I suppose I wasn’t thinking…”

Morgan’s words trailed off as he dissolved into tears of his own, soft hiccups escaping him as the guilt of his actions caught up with him.

You both watched him as his hands curled into fists against his thighs, shoulders hunched as he tried to hide his shame. It brought a whole new wave of emotions through you, though entirely different from the traumatic grief that had rocked you hours earlier.

“Oh, my darling.” You sighed shakily, leaving Frederick’s side to take Morgan into your arms. You held him close, feeling his fingers curl into your coat.

“I-I’m so sorry, Mother! I’m so sorry I scared you, a-and I hurt you and angered you, and- and-!”

You shushed him gently, running your hand up and down his back as he cried. Your Morgan was so sweet, if not terribly naive at times. You rested your cheek atop his head, holding him close as he sobbed against you not unlike you had done to him, before.

“I know, my love. I forgive you. It is a lesson learned and will never be repeated.”

“N-never!” He swore, voice muffled against your coat.

“I…forgive you as well, son.” Frederick spoke up, crossing the distance and joining you both. Morgan pulled away from you only to wrap his arms around his father, urging him into his embrace. Of course, Frederick was quick to engulf his son in his comforting arms.

“T-thank you, Father! I…I promise, I’ll never let you down again! I-I love you both so much, I’ll never think of any plan like that, n-not ever.”

“Good lad.” Frederick smiled weakly, ruffling his son’s hair as the hug came to its end. “We love you, too, Morgan. Very much. Never forget that.”

“I won’t…” He swore, pushing the tears from his eyes. “I won’t.”


	44. Messy Morgan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick is vexed by his son's inability to stay clean, despite his perfectionist father's best efforts.

Frederick didn’t know how it kept happening.

Every few hours or so, nearly every day, Morgan would dash up to his father with a mess of some kind splattered across his clothes and face.

The maintenance supervisor was going to have a word with him about how much water he used, surely...the amount of baths Morgan needed was getting absurd.

Such was the thought Frederick had when he arrived to pick up Morgan that evening, only to see him covered in paint from head to toe. 

“Morgan, what in the gods names…?” Frederick breathed, just as the boy spotted him and sprinted up to him for a hug.

“Papa!!”

Frederick caught the child inches away from staining his freshly pressed and cleaned pants, holding him an arm’s length away while Morgan merely giggled.

“I-I’m so sorry, Sir Frederick- he was painting with Prince Owain and it devolved into a paint war before we could even try to stop it…” One of the nursemaids explained sheepishly.

“I see.” Frederick exhaled through his nose, eyeing the messy little one warily. “Looks like it’s time for your second bath of the day, son.”

“Yep!” Morgan chirped, wiggling in his father’s arms. “Can we go play outside after dinner?”

“And let you fall into another mud puddle? I don’t think so.” Frederick stopped that plan short, “Honestly, Morgan, why is it so difficult for you to keep your clothes clean longer than two seconds? I take my eyes off you for a moment and just like that, you’re dirty, again!”

 

“I dunno.” Morgan shrugged as Frederick carried him back to their quarters, “It’s fun to be messy!”

“I can assure you, that won’t be the case for long. Is it any fun getting cleaned up after every mess?”

Morgan paused and shrugged, thinking for a moment. “Mmm...yeah, it is!”

“And why, pray tell, is that?”

“Because I get to take a bath with Papa!” Morgan exclaimed, waving his arms around, “You spend extra time with me instead of boring work. That’s fun!”

Frederick was mildly caught off-guard by the child’s response, Morgan’s genuine desire to spend time with him almost endearing enough to ignore the fact he was causing such trouble in the first place. ...Almost.

“As much as I enjoy spending time with you, it doesn’t make your messiness acceptable, young man. Cleanliness is one of the most important parts of being a knight, which you’ll never achieve at this rate.”

“But I wanna be a knight like you!”

“Then you mustn’t go around making such messes now, should you?” Frederick quirked an eyebrow as they reached his quarters, swift to unlock the door and head inside. You were already at your desk, the smell of dinner already cooked and waiting a welcoming entrance.

Frederick couldn’t help but pause as he looked at you...two years without you had been a difficult thing; half the nights he came home, he tricked himself into believing you were sitting there, waiting for him.

Now that you actually were, he was second-guessing himself more often than not. It wasn’t until you looked up and snorted at the sight of him that he snapped back into reality.

“Oh, dear. What did you get into this time, you silly boy?”

“Paint!” Morgan cheerfully informed you, prompting you to look past him to your husband, who rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know where he gets these messy tendencies from. Certainly not from me.” Frederick sighed, heading for the washroom.

“He’s a child, my love. Messes are what he does best.” You giggled as you came up beside him, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “Shall I help you with the bath so we can eat sooner? I’d hate for it to get cold.”

“Bathtime with Mama and Papa?!” Morgan gasped happily, eyes wide in anticipation. You grinned at your excited little man, the four-year-old practically bursting at the seams with excitement.

“You seem awfully energetic for this time of night. Maybe we ought to let you run around outside before bed.”  
“Not a chance.” Frederick stopped you, “Unless you want to give him bath number three.” 

“Fair enough.” You laughed, but followed your boys into the washroom all the same, helping Morgan out of his messy clothes and getting him into the bath.

With you washing his hair and Frederick scrubbing the stains off chubby arms and legs, Morgan was back to squeaky cleanness in no time.

At least, until dinner was revealed to be soup and bread. Morgan promptly spilled half of his dinner on himself.

Frederick ended up letting him play outside...he was going to get a bath anyways. You took the initiative to clean him up for the last one, though. Frederick didn’t look like he could emotionally handle another one.


	45. Another Kidnapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Robin is kidnapped by the Grimleal and Frederick tries desperately to bring you home...phyiscally and mentally.

The battlefield was a mess. Your troops were scattered and the plan was starting to fall apart, but you weren’t giving up. There was still a light at the end of the tunnel, and you’d see it through to the end.

You directed Frederick to split from you, to help cover Lissa as she started to move forward to heal soldiers on the front lines. She needed him more than you did.

Frederick wanted to disagree. He knew better than to leave you alone, let alone against a foe as vicious as the Plegians. But there was no room for argument.

You sent him away and rushed off to continue the battle without him. He could only hope you’d reconnect, later.

Hours passed after Lissa had joined Frederick. Being able to use his steed to get further, it was much easier for Lissa to do the necessary healing to keep everyone together. Sure enough, the tide of the battle shifted. The Plegians were falling back.

Frederick’s brow furrowed; why would they be falling back now? They were holding a strong offense. There was no reason for them to push back, as the Ylissean front had yet to really put a dent in the enemy army’s numbers.

His frown deepened as he scanned the battlefield, searching for you among the crowd of cheering soldiers. Several gave chase as the Plegians retreated, but most simply reveled in their victory.

However, Frederick didn’t see you in the crowds.

“Robin??” He called, his gaze whipping over his comrades as he galloped back to where you had first separated from him. You weren’t anywhere to be found. “Robin?!”

“FREDERICK!!”

He ground to a halt when your scream hit his ears. His eyes widened, snapping up to find you. There, amidst the retreating Plegians, you were being dragged away on a cart. You were bound, being held back by a number of them, and you were crying out for him.

“ROBIN!!”

He yanked Hebert around and burst into a gallop, trying to catch up with the Plegians. He rushed after them, drawing his axe and throwing it into the crowd of retreating soldiers. You were hundreds of meters away, and he was losing sight of you fast.

“FREDERICK-!!” Your yelped was choked, and he watched with frightened eyes when your head disappeared beneath the captor’s grasp. There, in the blink of a moment, the Plegian’s sleeve slipped back.

A tattoo of the Grimleal.

Fear shot through Frederick’s body as he pressed onward; the Grimleal had you. They were going to kill you.

He barely made it another foot before an enemy barrier suddenly erupted from the ground, nearly throwing him from Hebert’s back. A cry left him as he pulled Hebert back, the barrier quickly covering the ground from left to right for miles.

He grit his teeth, heart thundering in his chest.

They got away...and they took you with them.  


* * *

“Gods...I can’t believe we let this happen!” Chrom cursed, the army regrouped after Frederick’s frantic break from army lines. He rushed back in a fury, frantically explaining you’d been taken.

His wife was taken.

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Tharja brushed off his concern, “Just give me something of Robin’s. I’ll be able to track her down in no time.”

“And how, pray tell, do you plan on doing that?” Maribelle asked with narrowed eyes, “Since when do you suddenly possess the skills to track someone down who’s been taken by religious extremists?!”

“Not ‘someone’, you powdered, pompous brat. I cast a very special charm over each and every one of Robin’s boots. It allows me to know exactly her whereabouts, no matter what pair she’s wearing. I...came up with it, myself…” 

Frederick made a mental note to replace all of your boots once you were rescued. Especially when that triumphant, spooky grin crossed Tharja’s lips. ...Definitely time to get new boots.

“Well, what are we waitin’ for? Let’s get trackin’!” Henry cheered, ushering Frederick off to procure your boots. He’d be damned if he let Tharja anywhere near your shared tent. He was worried about you enough, already.

‘Just hold on, Robin.’ He prayed, hurrying back to the council tent with your boots in hand, ‘We’re coming for you!’  


* * *

The Plegians hadn’t gotten far. There was a fortress several miles away, but it would easily be reached by nightfall if a small team was able to head out immediately.

Frederick lead the charge, with Chrom and Lissa on the ground, Cordelia and Cherche in the sky, and Tharja and Henry (with Miriel, Libra and Maribelle for supervision) joining in the rear. They weren’t going to leave that fort until they had you safe and sound on Ylissean soil.

Night had long since fallen by the time they reached the ugly thing. Most of the army had left the area, moving further back to regroup. The fort seemed to be guarded, for the most part, by the Grimleal.

As if he needed another reason to tear those ugly demon worshipers to shreds.

Entering through the back, the team navigated silently through the dark corridors. The Fire tomes reflected nothing but grime and filth until the faces of Grimleal appeared in the dark. Frederick was the first to cut them down.

“We’ve been spotted.” Frederick growled, giving chase to as many he could reach before the rest of the fort realized they had come. “We must hurry!! Where is Robin?”

“She’s being held down below. It appears to be a prison in the depths of the fort.” Tharja informed them, following the charm’s directions. They rushed downwards, hacking and slashing through any Grimleal that stood in their way.

They weren’t going to waste anymore time. You were coming home with them, tonight. In the back of his mind, Frederick prayed you would be alive.

Another corner turned, and another. Several steps taken further down into the basement, and the group slowed. There, in the distant darkness below, there was a muffled cry. Again and again, it broke through the walls.

Frederick’s brow furrowed, mouth drawn into a deep frown at the sound. The blood froze in his veins.

That was your voice.

“Robin-!!” Chrom gasped, but Frederick was already bolting towards your cries. You were being tortured. They were hurting you.

“Frederick, wait! Don’t do anything rash!!” Maribelle tried to slow him down, but it was too late. Frederick found the door and broke it down without a second thought.

The room held two Grimleal, their Nosferatu tomes focused towards a figure obscured in the shadows. You were that figure, who whimpered and groaned as the dark magic enveloped you.

An inhuman roar ripped from Frederick’s mouth, launching into the mages and cutting them down without a second thought. Their magic ceased abruptly, just as the rest of the Shepherds came in. It was Sumia’s gasp that drew Frederick’s attention to the figure.

“R-Robin!”

“Oh, my gods-”

Your husband rushed to where you hung, your feet suspended inches from the ground as you were held from your wrists, chained to the wall. He smashed the blade into the chains, breaking them from the wall. You would’ve fallen to the floor if Frederick hadn’t caught you.

“Gods...R-Robin!”

He wrapped you up in his embrace and lifted you to his chest, teeth grit painfully as he looked over you. Your body was covered in dried blood and mottled with bruises. Your expression was one of sheer pain, that which he could only imagine. The sounds of your tormented cries echoed in his mind. They were trying to break you

“Frederick quickly- we have to return to camp!”

“Cordelia, fly ahead and inform the others we found her-”

“-There’s no time to waste-”

Numbly, Frederick followed after them, running as fast as he could with the precious cargo in his arms. You were limp and unresponsive, your head lolling against his chest. His face was the definition of horror and fear. 

You were all alone on the battlefield and the enemy took advantage. Now, you were a bloody mess in his arms. He was so focused on getting you out of there, he didn’t see your eyes open, nor how you reached out to touch him.

Your fingers weakly brushed against his face, forcing him to stop. Three small streaks of blood stained his skin as your hand fell away, your glazed, teary eyes drawing closed once more.

“Oh, Robin..” He choked out, squeezing you closer. “J-just...just hold on, please...just hold on.”

* * *

It had been several days since the initial battle, more so since you were rescued. The healers had been adamant about staying on you 24/7. The wounds were deep and plentiful, having been subjected to multiple ceaseless bouts of dark magic. There was a fear you wouldn’t make it, the first few nights.

Slowly, you began to recover. Frederick never left your side throughout the healing process, his hands closed around your fragile little one as his fingers trembled. 

The fear that gnawed at him, the guilt and anger was nothing compared to what you’d been through. He shook his head silently, lips drawn into a deep frown as he waited anxiously for you to open your eyes, again.

“You...mustn’t worry so, Sir Frederick.” Maribelle tried to comfort him, “Robin will wake up in no time, at this rate. Her recovery has been slow, yes, but it’s nothing she won’t come back from, soon. You really mustn’t be so worried for her.”

“Even so, she is my wife. I left her side and made her vulnerable to what she suffered. If I had been there….at the very least, I could have gone in her stead.”

“You’re a knight, Frederick. The magic they were using on her would have killed you.” She protested, “But Robin’s lucky enough to withstand it. That, and having you there to break her out was what really saved her life.”

“I see…” He trailed off, teeth grit at the thought there was something he couldn’t protect you from. To think you were subjected to a pain so great it would have killed him. 

“Just hang in there. I’m sure she’ll be awake in no time.” Maribelle assured him once more. It was as if her words were magic when she said this, because in that instant, your breathing picked up. “Or perhaps it’ll be just this second!”

Frederick turned back to you, staring hopefully at you as you slowly started to wake. He gripped your hand tighter, tentatively calling your name.

Your breathing slowed to a pause. Maribelle’s brow furrowed, moving to call Libra. Frederick’s heart froze, fearful something was wrong with you.

He barely reached out to touch your face before he was blasted back by an explosion of magic. Maribelle screamed as he flew out of the healing tent, crashing into the dirt outside with an unceremonious thud. The camp went into a flurry, some helping Frederick struggle to his feet, while more healers rushed into the tent.

“Gods, Frederick, are you all right??” Stahl asked as he steadied the poor man, whose once pristine vest was ripped and torn, the blast of magic near knocking the wind out of the man. You hadn’t been fooling around.

But why would you attack him in the first place?

“Frederick?” Libra suddenly pushed out of the tent, “Frederick, if you’re all right, we need your help.”

He was quick to gather himself, pushing off of Stahl with a dazed thanks before going back into the tent. He hurried through the crowd, finding a group surrounding your bed. You were thrasing in the sheets, struggling against the grip of your friends and panicking wildly.

“L-let me go! Let...let me go! No more!!” You cried out, voice hoarse and cracked. Frederick stiffened at the sound. You thought you were still captive.

“Robin!” He called to you with all his heart, brushing past Lissa, who pinned your arm down as best she could, and reached out to cup your face in his hands. “Robin, look at me!” 

“N-no more, please-!! Please, no more...no more…!” You begged, tears streaming from your eyes. His heart broke at the sight. He guided your eyes to his as gently as he could, but your squirming wasn’t making it any easier.

“Robin, look at me! You’re safe- you’re not there, anymore! You’re home- it’s me, Frederick. It’s me.” He said softer, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Slowly, you calmed down, your heavy breathing coming slower as you listened to his voice. 

 

There was no cackling or evil words spewed at you. That was your husband’s voice. His gentle, tender tone he only ever used with you. Your brow furrowed, and you swallowed thickly, your gaze slowly coming into focus.

You were met with the worried, warm brown eyes of your husband’s. Your breath stuck in your throat.

“Fred...Frederick…?” You spoke his name as if it were a question, as if you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. With a breathless laugh he nodded, tears forming in his eyes.

“Yes, love...it’s me. You’re home. We found you and brought you home. You’re safe.” He told you over and over, until you finally relaxed against your comrade’s grip.

Warily they released you, your focus solely on your dearest husband’s face as he assured you everything was all right.

“Frederick…” You whimpered his name, before your words became sobs. “F-Frederick!”

You weakly threw your arms around his neck, holding onto him for all you were worth. It drew a grimace to his lips, feeling how you trembled in his arms. He shook his head, wrapping you tightly in his embrace and cupping your head, pressing you into him.

He held you like that long after everyone left, comforting you with every fiber of his being as you slowly came back to reality. Endless apologies and love words were whispered, longing embraces and desperate kisses decorating whatever the other could reach.

Never again, he swore to you, cradling you tenderly as your tears finally stopped. Never again would he let you feel such pain, nor fear, nor hopelessness.

He would protect you, no matter what. He would always find you.


	46. Doppelganger Kidnapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin is replaced with a doppelganger on the battlefield and no one notices until it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know she keeps getting kidnapped///// lolol I'm so sorry x"D I've still got a few more kidnapping stories people want me to write for fredrob, so expect a few more! But I'll try to sprinkle in some other story prompts as well, in between ;3

When you collapsed to the ground, Frederick nearly flew into hysterics. The battle had been bloody and exhausting, the man near ready to fall over himself. When you dropped, it sent a fresh new wave of panic-induced adrenaline through his system.

“Robin!!” He yelped, darting down beside you and scooping you up, shouting frantically for the healers. Yet oddly, as he looked you over, there were no wounds. There was no pained expression on your face, and you weren’t warm. You weren’t breathing.

Yet you had no dead weight. You hadn’t been killed, but you clearly weren’t alive. When Libra came to heal you, he had the same thought.

“This isn’t Robin.” He announced in a grave tone, his own exhaustion giving way to his concern. 

“Of course it’s not!” Henry piped up, drawn to the drama. Frederick eyed him warily as the boy bent down, brushing aside your hair. “See? There’s the Mark of Grima! Some Plegian black magic to create a shadow puppet of her, no doubt!”

“Then if this isn’t her,” Frederick’s grip tightened on the puppet, blood roaring in his ears, “Where’s my wife?”

“She’s likely been kidnapped.” Tharja cursed, sending a wave of fear through the army. “But we can’t chase after them, not now. We’re too weak.”

“I’ll be damned if I let them get away with her-!” Frederick abandoned the eerily familiar puppet to the ground, rising to his feet and grabbing his lance, “I’ll chase them down even if it kills me-”

“Frederick, don’t!” Chrom stopped him this time, grabbing the man’s arm. To his surprise, Frederick nearly stumbled back. The look on the knight’s face made it clear; he was exhausted and the both of them knew it.

“Milord, they kidnapped Robin. They took her, and if we don’t get her back, then-”

“I know, believe me. I’m just as worried as you are. But we can’t chase after them if we’re too weak to fight! It’s a suicide mission. Robin wouldn’t want us to go after her if we can’t even lift a sword! She’d be heartbroken if you died trying to save her.”

“But...I…” He panted for breath, trying to keep his composure and his calm despite being torn in half. He knew full well he wouldn’t make it if he chased after you, now. But the further away the enemy got, the harder it would be to find you.

The odds of losing you forever were increasing by the second. 

“Come on, Frederick.” Chrom took his arm once more, “Let’s get fixed up, and then we’ll save Robin.”

Frederick stared wistfully back at the battlefield, his expression contorted with worry and grief. He had already lost so much in this war. The death of the Exalt had shattered him, breaking down the knight inside him. If he lost you, too...it would destroy the man inside him, as well.

He couldn’t bear it. He wouldn’t.

* * *

The night was long when the camp finally came back together. Healed and repaired, weapons restocked and armor polished, Frederick was ready to move. Tharja had been working non-stop since they returned, snapping at the healers to simply work on her while she focused on finding you. She could rest when you were found, she grumbled.

It was a sentiment Frederick shared, even after being sent to bed. They wouldn’t be finding you, not at a decent hour. Midnight had long since passed, and if they were to track you down, they needed to be well-rested.

Frederick spent the first several minutes in his tent, alone, lying on the cot and staring at the spot you were supposed to fill beside him. He missed you greatly, but feared for your wellbeing even more. Of course he couldn’t sleep.

He grimaced, shutting his eyes against the fear pounding in his heart. He took your pillow and held it against his chest, the faint scent of your hair soothing him somewhat. He needed to find you. He prayed he would sleep, so that he might rest when he found you.

He didn’t remember actually falling asleep. But he did recall dreaming of you when it was viciously interrupted by Lissa, who broke into the tent practically screaming that they found you.

Dawn had barely broken and they finally had eyes on you.

Frederick lead the charge into Plegian territory. It was a fort on the far east end of the desert, and it was crawling with soldiers. He readied a silver lance so sharp it would easily cut through armor. That’s precisely what it did, as they stormed the front gates without a second thought.

Gaius and Lon’qu slipped through the back with Ricken, ready to administer emergency healing if they found you before the guards tried to get you out and they intercepted.

Frederick barreled through the place with a strength so fierce it frightened even his comrades. They knew he was protective of you, but never had they seen just how terrifying he could be when that was tested.

It was the captain of the Plegian guard that he forced your location out of. Several threats and an arm was broken came before Frederick got what he wanted from the man. 

The northwest tower. A small cell in the furthest corner, chained up to prevent you from even thinking of escape. Cursed within an inch of your life, the man choked out, so even if you were found, it would probably be too late.

Frederick didn’t bother letting him finish that thought. The group raced to the tower, scaling it without a second to lose.

The furthest cell was located, where Gaius had already broken on the lock. And there, sure enough, you laid there in Lon’qu’s arms, Ricken feverishly working to heal away the wounds and ward off the curses.

Frederick was with you in the blink of an eye. He was glad to take you from Lon’qu’s awkward hold, bringing you into his chest as he looked you over. Gods, the blood was everywhere. You were warm, breathing, and your expression clearly pained.

Yet that smile on your face when he called your name, when you opened those beautiful, loving eyes to look up at him, it filled him with such relief he couldn’t describe it.

“I knew...you’d find me.” You whispered weakly, reaching up to touch his face. Frederick took your hand in his tightly, his fingers quivering as he pressed a kiss to your palm. “I was...I worried you would try...t-to chase after me sooner…”

“I was going to.” He replied in a soft, strained voice that was devoid of humor. He tried to smile for you, but his worry was far too great. 

“I’m so glad you didn’t...if you died for me...I wouldn’t...forgive you.” You mused tiredly, leaning your head against his chest. He cradled you closer, eying Ricken and Libra worriedly.

“Fret not; she’ll make it.” Libra whispered, “We’ll have her patched up before we even have to leave.”

The captain was wrong that day, thankfully. With the combined magic of Lissa, Maribelle, Libra and Ricken, it didn’t take long to undo most of the wounds and curses. 

Though you insisted you could walk, Frederick wouldn’t allow you out of his arms. He carried you back to the horses, keeping you in his lap with a blanket wrapped around you so you might rest and not exacerbate your remaining injuries too much. 

You were in need of a bath and a good meal, not to mention plenty of rest. All of which Frederick was glad to provide, never once leaving your side once you all returned to camp once more.

When the time came for a proper rest, he settled you in the cot beside him, glad to welcome you into his embrace when you moved closer to him. 

He didn’t say a word when he felt the little tears wet his tunic, blinking back his own as he comforted you into sleep. He was just as frightened as you, after all. You both knew the gravity of the situation. He should have lost you.

So long as he was your husband, however, he’d make sure such a fate would never befall you. Certainly not because of some mangy little puppet.


	47. Frederick Stabs Robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick accidentally stabs his wife in the heat of battle.

He didn’t know how it happened. One instant, he was fighting on his own, blocking and countering the strikes of multiple assailants at once.

The movements became a rhythm, a blur; he downed one, then another. There were only so many left and he wouldn’t stop until he was freed from their assault.

He didn’t realize it was your coat, not a Grimleal’s. He didn’t realize it was you until the lance pierced your side and you gasped in shock.

Frederick’s eyes widened in sheer horror, staring at where his lance had gouged into your body. He had stabbed his wife.

“NO!!” An unholy roar ripped from his mouth, dropping the lance as he rushed to your side. Numbly your hands closed around the metal, barely able to register Frederick’s towering presence as the pain had yet to fully register.

He stabbed you.

“No, no, _no-!!_ Gods, Robin, how-?! Gods… _Gods!!”_

“Don’t…d-don’t panic.” You sucked in a sharp breath, the very act causing your lungs to scream in protest. Frederick’s face paled as your expression contorted in pain, his hands quaking as he reached for the lance. His lance.

He stabbed you.

“W-we have to take it out,” You wheezed, “Cover the w-wound…get help…” You grasped his armor with one hand, the blood smearing the steel more frightening than he could fathom. He barely registered your attempt to remove the weapon, until a wet, choked cry of pain escaped as your knees buckled.

“Robin, stop-!” He fell to his knees beside you, catching you in his arms before you had a chance to hit the ground. The lance came loose at the movement, giving you some relief, but more anxiety for your husband.

His shouts for healers and help were hoarse and rumbled across the battlefield, trying desperately to find someone who could fix his critical mistake.

That attack was meant to wipe out an enemy in a single strike.

It wasn’t supposed to be taken by you. Not by someone who was weak to lance attacks. Oh, gods; Frederick killed his wife.

“Don’t…panic.” You breathed again and again, reaching up and brushing your fingers against his cheek. Frederick’s eyes were glued to the gaping wound in your side, tearing away your coat and stuffing it into the wound as best he could.

In his anxious scramble, he recovered your emergency flare spell, sending it rocketing into the sky without a second thought. He pressed down against the bloody hole in the meantime, his entire body shaking at this point.

“Stay awake- stay awake, Robin, please- help will come soon. Gods, help will come- please stay with me until then, I need- I c-can’t lose you like this, not like this, n-not because of me, gods-!”

“Breathe…” You whispered in that frighteningly calm voice, staring up at him through heavy eyelids. Ice flowed through his veins when your head drooped to the side, barely conscious. The blood drenched his fingers.

“Robin!!” He yelped, “S-stay awake!! Stay with me, don’t you _dare_ fall asleep! You need only last a little longer, please- Lissa’s on her way!!”

The princess’s frightened cries when she spotted you could be heard across the field. It would be mere moments before they’d take care of you. Frederick turned your head toward him, urgently coaxing your gaze to meet his. Your eyes were already glazing over.

“Look at me, my love, I beg of you- pl…lo…t me…!”

Your eyes shut seconds later.

* * *

“You stabbed your wife?!” Maribelle’s shriek pierced the camp’s uneasy quiet, “How could you do such a thing?! Are you truly so unobservant and boneheaded that you would strike down your own lover?!”

“M-Maribelle, please…” Chrom placed his hands on her shoulders, attempting to calm down the irate healer. “She’s stable now, that’s all that matters. Besides, I think it’s clear Frederick didn’t mean to, and he feels awful about what happened.”

To say he felt awful was an understatement. Frederick’s eyes were red from crying, completely wrecked by the thought you had passed; and by his own hand, a thought that made it much worse.

His hair was askew as was his ribbon, his armor having been forgotten so he might return to your side faster once you were taken away to be healed. His anxious pacing had finally slowed to a stop when Maribelle learned what happened. She nearly knocked him from his feet in that instant, she was so angry.

“How could you be so blind?” She snapped at him, tugging away from Chrom. “She’s not that hard to recognize!! You’d think her husband would know that better than most!”

“I…I don’t know.” Frederick mumbled, dumbfounded by the scenario, himself. “I was just so focused on… I-I was surrounded, and fell into a rhythm to defend myself and counter them, but then she…she just came out of nowhere. I-if I hadn’t been so focused on my goals, I never would have…s-she wouldn’t be…”

“All right, that’s enough.” Maribelle was pulled back from Frederick in a far more stern warning than before, the prince’s jaw set as he cast a chiding glare at his friend. Maribelle simply huffed and turned her nose up at them both.

“At least he’s not completely heartless. Any husband of mine who stabbed me would surely be seeing divorce papers the instant I woke, no matter how ‘sorry’ they claim to be!”

Chrom shook his head as she left, turning back to him. “I know it was an accident. You needn’t be so distraught. Lissa said she’d make a full recovery in a few days, and I’m sure she knows better than anyone else it wasn’t deliberate.”

“Y-yes, but milord, I…I’m clearly a danger to her, and everyone else. If I get so focused on fighting that I might kill Robin, then-”

“You’re no danger, Frederick. You made a mistake. You were overwhelmed, and lost focus. It’s not your fault. If anything I’m sure she went in there to help.”

“B-but…”

“Please, don’t do this to yourself, my friend. Robin won’t blame you and none of us do, either. The least you can do is not blame yourself. Just hold fast and wait until she wakes. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

It wouldn’t be for another four days before your eyes opened, again. Frederick had remained by your side without hesitation. Dragging a cot beside yours when you slept, that he might be there the instant you woke each night.

It was on the fifth morning that he woke to the feeling of your fingers tenderly brushing against his cheek, his eyes bleary and exhausted as they slowly focused on that warm, sweet glimmer in your eyes.

You were pale, a bit gaunt, and certainly thinner after your blood had spilled and your body was without food so long, and yet…you were so beautiful.

It was all he could do to take your hand into his, pressing kiss after trembling kiss to your fingertips and knuckles, drawing you into his chest and clutching you tightly against him.

You made him swear not to blame himself. It was an accident, a miscalculation, and it couldn’t be further from his fault. You were just so happy to see he was all right, and that you were awake to see it.

He managed to nod once or twice before the tears overtook him once more, burying his face in your hair as he mumbled his apologies, squeezing you close.

It wasn’t long before he retired his lance and took to training exclusively with swords, axes, and the occasional seashell once all was said and done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little variety for you! lol


	48. Wintertime Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin gets a terrible cold in the middle of Ylisse's worst winter storms and it's up to Frederick to help you feel better.

“Gods, curse this damn snow…” Frederick cursed to himself, hurrying through the market as quick as the biting winds would allow. His face was flushed and nose bright red from the freezing air nipping at him. Ylisstol had suffered harsh winters that blew down from Ferox every now and again, but it had never been this bad.

Frederick was somehow able to ignore the freezing numbness in his fingers and toes, bundled up as warmly as he could as he hurried back to the castle, his packages clutched tight to his chest.

He’d been lucky enough to find the supplies he’d need in the market; those who were still able to run despite the chilly weather. He was glad that the most important services were available; healers, quiltmakers, a few brave souls selling foods…all things he needed to help you recover.

He knew you weren’t fond of the cold, but he never thought it would affect you in such a terrible way. You’d come down with an awful fever a few nights ago, and it didn’t want to go.

Frederick’s frown deepened as he made his way into the castle, the warmth of the great hall soothing his chilled bones. Despite the relieving change, he had plenty more to worry about. His strides were long and swift, passing through the various courtyards as he hurried to his quarters.

He had to make sure you were all right.

The man wasted no time in unlocking the door, pushing it open as quietly as a worried husband could. The fire crackled brightly in the den, where you had been hurried off to and settled under layers of blankets. Frederick made a beeline for you, yet to regard the priest beside you.

“Welcome back, Sir Frederick.” Libra greeted him cordially. Frederick wasted no time in changing his clothes.

“How is she fairing?” He asked worriedly, casting a glance in your direction. You were still so pale, your breathing still labored. But Libra smiled, looking far less concerned than your husband.

“Robin is doing well. She was asking for you the few moments she was awake.”

“She was?” He replied, untying the parcel filled with woolen blankets and herbs. “I didn’t think she’d have awoken while I was gone. The blasted weather made it nearly impossible to find anyone with the supplies we needed. I was lucky enough to find what I did.”

“It is truly a blessing.” Libra agreed as he took the blanket from Frederick, expertly draping it over you from where you slept on the sofa. He watched as your husband removed his several layers, the snow-covered cloak set by the fire along with his drenched socks and boots.

“These are the plants we needed, yes?” Frederick asked as he passed them off. Libra nodded, holding them up.

“Well, not all of them are here, but I suppose we can make do with what we have. It may just turn out we won’t need too many remedies here, soon.”

Frederick’s eyebrows rose, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he joined the two of you, halfway through covering himself with a fresh, dry sweater. “Her status has improved that much?”

“Robin has always been an exceptionally strong woman, you know.” Libra reminded him, brushing the hair from your face so he could replace the dry cloth with a damp, cool one. “She’s been responding well to the Catharsis and herbal mixtures. Her immune system should have this fever squandered before the end of the week.”

“That’s quite relieving to hear.” Frederick breathed out, sinking down so that he knelt beside Libra, his face mere inches from yours. His fingers skimmed along your cheek, the heated skin almost heavenly against his freezing digits. “I was so worried when she woke feeling so ill…I feared the worst.”

“You do have a tendency to jump to conclusions, Captain.” Libra said with a twinkle of amusement, “It’s not uncommon for people to contract fevers during such nasty weather.”

“I am aware of that, but when it’s Robin…” He trailed off, taking the cloth to dab at the perspiration on your flushed face. “I would like to make sure she stays healthy. After everything, it would be truly horrible to lose her to something as torturous as sickness.”

“I can assure you, no sickness will be taking your wife, good knight. Not this season.” Libra promised the fretful Frederick. “Robin will be back to normal in a number of days. Just take care to keep her bundled up when the weather turns harsh, again.”

“Of course.” Frederick nodded seriously, his frown the definition of zero tolerance. “I’ll begin knitting an entire closet-full of new winter clothes for her.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Libra chuckled, a hand on his friend’s shoulder as he rose. “I’ve other patients to attend to, this evening. Make sure you have those herbs ground and mixed with warm water. She’ll need to drink that solution the moment she wakes. She’ll need to rest for the remainder of the week as a precaution, but it should be only a few more days before Robin is back at it.”

“You have my thanks, Libra. I’ll have to find a way to repay you, soon.” Frederick bowed deeply to the priest as he left. Libra waved a dismissive hand, insisting he not be given anything as he left. And in a matter of seconds, the home was quiet, again.

Frederick’s gaze lingered on your expression. How you still looked as if you were in pain, but nowhere near as bad as it was before. His eyes softened, his large hand cupping your cheek with a tender touch.

“Hold fast, my sweet.” He murmured, stroking your cheek, “I’ll have you better by the morrow. I suppose we’ll have to start by preparing your medicine.”

He knew you weren’t fond of bitter things, and looking at the herb in his hands, he knew full well just how opposed to it you would be. Perhaps he could mix in a little bit of sugar to help convince you…

His thoughts trailed off as he headed for the kitchen, abandoning you only to prep the distasteful drink. He’d barely heated the water before he heard your groan, and the powder finely ground when you called his name.

“F-Frederick…?” You sounded so weak he couldn’t help rushing to your side. He hurried to the sofa, crouching beside you so that he was with you once more.

“I’m here, my love. I’m home.” He replied quietly, taking your hand in his. Your eyes were unfocused, glassy and glazed, but you somehow managed to look at him. “Is something the matter?”

“Aside from…feeling l-like a pile of…of pegasus dung?” You joked. “I just…wanted you home.”

“Rest assured, I’ve returned safe and sound.” He told you, “Libra left a little while ago, so you’ve fallen under my care.”

“That’s good to hear… A-at least I know I’ll…get better faster.” You managed something akin to a smile, which he happily returned.

“I guarantee you’ll be better before you know it. The first step in achieving our goals, however, is for you to drink this.” He held the cup out, “Do you need me to help you? Or can you hold it yourself?”

“It’s just a fever. I’m not…I’m not paralyzed.” You said with some sort of odd mix between a cough and a laugh. Regardless, Frederick insisted he help you sit up, his strong arms firm around your shoulders as he slid you up to a sitting position. He handed you the cup carefully, expecting it to fall from how shaky your hands were.

But you managed, using both hands to maintain while you put the thing to your lips. You made a disgusted noise the second you started to drink.

“W-what in Naga’s name-”

“An herbal remedy Libra had me brew for you. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the most delicious thing. A-are you all right? It doesn’t make you feel nauseous, does it?” He asked quickly, prepared to scoop you up and cart you to the washroom.

But you quickly shook your head, managing to choke down the contents of the cursed cup. “I-I can handle it. I detect a pinch of sugar in there…I think it’ll hold me.”

Frederick couldn’t help beaming proudly at his wife. “Ever observant, even when you’re ill.” He ran a hand through your hair before taking the empty glass. “I’ll get this out of the way so you can rest a little while longer.”

“D-do I have to sleep when I rest?” You suddenly asked him, just as he stepped into the kitchen. He quirked an eyebrow, looking to the den.

“One would assume so, yes.” He called, “Why do you ask? Is there something you need, milady?”

“N-nothing much…” You said as he returned to your side, coming to sit beside you. “I just…it gets a little boring lying here. I-I was sort of hoping you might…read to me.”

“Read to you?” He echoed, feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks. You wanted to spend time with him, despite feeling so miserable you wished you could sleep the sick away. He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It would be an honor, my darling. Wait here- shall I fetch the novel Sumia suggested for you? I suppose it could do you well to sink into a fantasy world for a little while.”

“That would be lovely.” You beamed at him, watching as he quickly fetched the book and settled down, sitting so you could peek over his shoulder at the blurry blocks of text.

And he happily read to you all through the evening, stopping only when you had fallen asleep with your head resting on his shoulder, trying to read ahead. It was the one time Frederick was mildly thankful you had fallen ill.

It gave him a wonderful opportunity to spend time with his beloved, even if it was reading an cheesy novel while you felt horrible. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to being with you even more, tomorrow.

You know, between the nasty herbal drinks and feverish naps. Nothing but a good time to look forward to at all.


	49. Adopting a Puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Frederick consider adopting a puppy for Morgan.

“You want to get him a _what?”_ Frederick’s brow furrowed quite seriously when you spoke, the two of you moving around the market for the weekend groceries. You had just passed by an animal and farming supplies store, and saw a particularly sweet-looking Ylissean Retriever.

It was then that your idea struck.

“I think we should get Morgan a puppy.” You repeated, making Frederick’s nose crinkle in mild disgust. “I think he’s old enough to handle the responsibility, don’t you?”

“Morgan is only turning six soon, Robin.” He reminded you in that chiding tone of his, “The responsibility of maintaining a pet is far greater than a young boy can handle.”

“Even so, this is our son we’re talking about. Morgan is plenty disciplined and responsible. He does all his chores when he’s asked and rarely fusses. Compared to the likes of Prince Owain and even little Lucina, I’d say he’s a perfect candidate for a pet.”

“I do not disagree. We’ve done a fine job bringing Morgan up.” Frederick said with a slight puff of pride to his chest. “But still…say we did get him a dog. The additional costs of feeding and cleaning an animal, especially one that isn’t maintained by the castle staff in and of itself will be a huge responsibility for the two of us. It’ll be akin to having a new child in the house.”

“We were planning on having another one anyways, weren’t we?” You pointed out, which in turn made him smile softly.

“Yes, but I wasn’t planning on that child turning out to be four-legged.” He responded in kind, offering his arm for you to take as you returned to your walk through the bustling streets of the capital.

“I’m just saying,” You continued, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, “I think it would be good for Morgan to have a companion. Someone who he can grow up with and they can watch over each other with. He could use a friend outside of those he sees when he stays with the nursemaids. He hasn’t been able to spend as much time with them, anyways.”

“You want him to have someone to spend time with at home?” He deduced, adjusting his hold on the groceries in his other hand, and stopping at another market stall.

“He must get so lonely when we’re not there, is all.” You thought with a soft sigh, “And it’ll be nice for him to have someone to distract him, and just spend time with him in general. Now that he can come home on his own time, he always has at least an hour to himself before we return.”

“I see your point. Perhaps a dog would keep him out of trouble in that spare time, as well.”

“As if Morgan could ever get into trouble.” You said with a laugh; mainly because Frederick would come down swiftly with the hammer of justice if he ever tried. “I just think it would be good for him to have a companion.”

“I understand.” He hummed, “I suppose my next line of questioning would be; can you handle that responsibility?”

“Oh, please. I’ve had a baby and brought him up just fine. I can handle a dog.”

“Fair enough…although I doubt you ever had to take Morgan out to the courtyards every few hours for relief.”

“If anything it gives us an excuse to get some fresh air.” You brushed him off, “So, what do you say? Shall we get a dog for Morgan?”

“I…suppose we shall.” He slowly conceded, to which you cheered. He chuckled softly at your excitement, adding, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you wanted the dog more than Morgan does.”

The plan was set in motion not long after your conversation. On the day of Morgan’s birthday, he was presented with a very wiggly box, carried in by a father who looked like he was all too excited to see Morgan’s reaction.

The freshly-turned-six boy practically exploded with joy when he popped the box open and was met with a flurry of kisses from a very happy little pup with a handsome ribbon tied around its neck.

You leaned against Frederick as you watched Morgan laugh, playing with the little dog with such happiness you would always remember that moment fondly.

At least, until the pup decided he waited long enough in the box before relieving himself on the floor.

The celebrations were quickly moved outside to prevent further incidents…at least to keep Frederick from saying “I told you so” too many times.


	50. Frednapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick gets kidnapped in your place-- and you're ready to tear the world apart to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 50th story, haha!! I know I've been on a nabbing stint recently...more fluff to come soon!!

“…Robin?”

The tent flap was opened, but you didn’t pay it much mind. You were hunched over your desk, scribbling furiously at whatever new map you were pouring over.

Chrom watched the stress radiate off your body as you worked, unable to fathom how horribly worried you felt.

“Robin, you need to rest.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to.”

“I won’t.”

“I understand your frustration and your concern, my friend, but you can’t keep going like this. You have to take a break before your body gives out, or-”

“Do you think he has the luxury of rest, right now?” You snapped at him, jerking up from your seat, “Do you think they’ve given him a chance to breathe since they took him? D-do you honestly think I can rest after he’s been tortured and beaten and starved for the last week because of me?!”

“Robin…” Chrom trailed off, seeing the fear and the fury finally bubble over, the tears that had long since dried coming back in full force. “I-I understand what you mean, but please, you won’t be able to help him like this-”

“I can’t stop this until I find him.” You seethed, “Those filthy Plegians kidnapped my husband, and if I lose him because of this I’m never going to survive the rest of this war. I can’t…I can’t d-do this without him.”

He could only watch sadly as you broke down, sinking into your chair once more and burying your face in your hands. Your shoulders shook, aching from the stress of being tense for hours on end.

Frederick had been kidnapped nearly eight days prior. It was the middle of battle, and you had a choice. Either go with the Plegians, or the village you were supposed to be defending would be burned down.

You agreed to go with them, if it meant keeping the peace. The spell to teleport you with your captors had barely been activated before Frederick lunged at you from out of nowhere, shoving you from the pentagram and taking your place.

The group teleported away before you even had a chance to react.

Since then, there’d been no sign of him, nor the Plegians who took him. Your husband had sacrificed himself to keep you safe, but at what cost? Did he honestly think you could live with yourself knowing the love of your life was dead?

Was that the same thought process he had when he took your place?

“G-gods,” You hiccuped, “They must be so angry that Frederick jumped in…they were conned out of their prize, and I can only imagine how they’re taking it out on him…oh, Chrom, w-what if he’s hurt beyond repair? W-what if they beat him within an inch of his life, what if…w-what if he’s already-”

“No.” Chrom stopped you, taking you into his arms and crushing you into his chest. He held you tightly, letting you sob freely against him. “Don’t think like that. Frederick’s strong, he…he’d never let himself fall at the hands of the enemy. We have to believe that.”

“B-but Chrom…he went there for me...they wanted me, but he…you think they care if he lives or dies?”

“I don’t care what they think.” Chrom mumbled, “We have to have faith that he’ll be okay, and we’ll find him in time. I’m sure we’ll find him soon- there’s only so much desert they can hide in.”

You nodded weakly against his chest, wanting more than anything to believe him. But there was so much fear and doubt in your mind, you couldn’t help but be out of sorts.

“I just want him home. W-whatever it takes,” You sniffled, “I want my husband back.”

“We’ll find him.” Chrom swore to you, “And you’ll tear all nine Hells apart to make sure of it. That much I know.”

You would’ve laughed had you not been cut off by someone busting into the tent, whose blond pigtails whipped about her face as she shouted at you both to come quickly with her.

They finally found Frederick’s location.

It was on the furthest point south of the Plegian capital, at the edge of the desert. He was being held in a prison where people were sent to die terrible, lonely, painful deaths. It was where Validar had anticipated picking you up and dragging you back to Gangrel, but got your husband, instead.

You shivered with anticipation as you mounted Frederick’s dear horse, determined to bring him back before such a fate could befall your love.

You weren’t stopping for anything once the group got moving. Hebert was on full gallop from the start of the mission to the end, the group maneuvering the desert and reaching your location before the night had fully passed.

The second you hit the patrol guard, all Hells broke loose.

Your Bolganone tome melted away stone– woe to anyone who came in line with it. The doors were broken down without hesitation, each soldier who came into you path promptly burnt to crisps. It wasn’t long before you reached the bowels of the prison, any attempts to stop you easily dismissed.

“He’s got to be down here. There’s no other holding cell beyond the basement.” Gaius deduced, his quick run around showing no sign of the knight. This was the last option.

Chrom and Lon’qu forced the door down and pushed inside, you and the rest of the Shepherds following shortly after.

You lit up your tome to see through the dark, scanning worriedly in the shadows for some sign of-

“Frederick!!”

Your voice echoed in the empty corridor as you spotted the glimmer of armor a few cells from the door. The group gathered to the cell, Gaius picking the lock and getting you inside, followed quickly by three healers and a pair of worried royals.

Frederick was on the stone floor, his face contorted in pain. The wounds he suffered from his capture contrasted starkly with his pale skin.

You bit back a sob as you stared further, his armor having been broken to pieces and his vest near completely torn to shreds. His dress shirt fared no better, having been torn at, as well.

They broke through his defenses.

“F-Frederick…Frederick, wake up.” Your voice wavered as you came to him, taking up his head and resting it against your lap as you fell to your knees behind him. Libra and Maribelle instructed you to keep him elevated while they tried to resuscitate him.

He was in horrible shape.

“Gods…how could they have done this?” Chrom whispered to himself, his arm wrapped tight around his sister who near collapsed against Frederick’s chest, terrified at the thought of losing him.

Yet you were there, quaking in your boots as you cradled his head in your lap, trying desperately to wake him.

“Please…p-please wake up, my love, I beg of you…” You whimpered, stroking his face with the pads of your thumbs, almost too afraid try harder for fear of no response.

The staves glowed on and on for what felt like ages before Frederick slowly came to. His expression relaxed some, and then a finger twitched- his brow furrowed and he started, a heavy cough escaping him. You gasped sharply, clutching onto him for dear life as he returned to the land of the living.

“Frederick!!” 

“Oh, thank the gods.”

“I-I’m so glad– he’s gonna be okay!!” The cheers of your comrades were forgotten as his eyes cracked open, his gaze bleary and unfocused as he tried to find his surroundings. These voices, this touch…he recognized it all, but…what were they doing here, of all places?

Was he dreaming?

“What’s…?” He couldn’t quite put together what was happening, but you didn’t need him to. You bent over him, your noses nearly touching as you pressed kiss after kiss to his forehead.

“We’re here, Frederick– we rescued you. You’re safe.” You whispered against his skin, mindful of the delicate bruises that no doubt were sensitive. Frederick relaxed in your arms as you said it, shifting some so that he might be able to hold himself up.

He reached up, weakly taking your hand in his. “I…knew you’d come…”

“I’m honored you have such faith in us.” You said with something between a laugh and a sob, hugging him close as the healing slowed.

“I have faith in you.” He replied with a small smile, the exhausted relief reflecting in your eyes, as well. You shared a meaningful look before Libra decided it was time to move out.

You took your place with Frederick on one of the carts brought along, keeping his head in your lap as you rode back to the camp. He was bundled up carefully, encouraging him to sleep once more on the road home.

Somewhere on the way, Frederick found your hand and held it tightly, threading your fingers together. A reminder that no, neither one of you had any intention of letting the other go.


	51. Birthday Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick tries to figure out what you've been working on the last couple weeks, to be pleasantly surprised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Frederick's birthday today, everybody!!!! Happy birthday to my favorite FE character of all time!!!! :"D

You’d been working on something strange for weeks on end, but refused to share it with him. That’s what made it strange; he had no idea if he was supposed to be worried or not.

It was unlike you to keep anything from him, after all. You were plenty open with him, and you knew everything about each other. When you asked him to trust you, that it wasn’t anything bad and hopefully he wouldn’t mind it when you finished, he agreed.

But that didn’t make him any less curious.

Days on end of dodging his questions, tucking something into your coat when he entered the room, along with a plethora of other evasion tactics had your husband more curious than he wanted to admit. He couldn’t help it; he wanted to know what the deal was.

“Robin,” He greeted you as he entered the bedroom, armor shed and vest half-off already. You jumped at his voice, eyes wide as you spotted him from across the room.

“Frederick! You’re home early.” You said as you quickly tucked away whatever was in your hands yet again, into that coat of yours so good at hiding things.

His lips twitched for only a moment, “You seem surprised. Did Lord Chrom not inform you I’d be relieved from duty early, this evening? He made it a point to have you drag me here if you had to, if I recall correctly.”

“You’re right.” You smiled sweetly at him, crossing the room and helping him out of his vest, “You just caught me off-guard. I was quite focused, earlier.”

“The war’s over, you know. What could you possibly be so focused on that isn’t a battle map or a new tactical plan?”

“That’s on a need-to-know basis.”

“I’m your husband- surely I would count as need-to-know.” Frederick pointed out, which made you giggle.

“Trust me, my love. You’ll find out soon enough what it is. Although whether you’ll really like it or not, I’m unsure…”

“It’s something I may not like?” He questioned with that wary look in his eye yet again, which you quickly waved off with a chuckle and sliding your hands up his chest.

“It’s nothing nefarious, Frederick. Really, you could stand to relax, especially considering what day tomorrow is. You’ve the whole day off; why not spend it worry-free?”

“You’ll have to forgive me if my wife’s strange behavior has me a bit concerned.” Frederick said with an unimpressed quirk in his eyebrow. He slipped his arms around your waist, drawing you closer despite his suspicion.

You just beamed at him, rising on your tippy toes to give him a proper kiss. “Have a little faith in me, Freddybear. Let’s focus on you, for now. For example, is there anything you’d like specifically for dinner, tonight?”

“I can’t think of anything in particular. Whatever you have planned is fine by me.”

“Are you sure?” You said with a mischievous little grin, which he quickly kissed away. “Because if it’s left up to me, I want to skip straight to dessert.”

“Oh?” He recognized that haze in your eyes from a mile away. He smiled to himself, lifting you up in his arms so that you straddled his hips, quick to wrap your legs around him.

“There’s only one thing I want in my mouth right now, Sir Knight. You.”

Frederick gasped lightly at your comment, wiping that cheeky grin off your face with a pinch to your tail that had you laugh. 

“That’s incredibly inappropriate, Robin. I don’t know where you keep learning these things. I certainly didn’t teach you.”

“Yet you don’t seem to complain when we’re getting to work, do you?” You snickered as he fell onto the bed with you, towering over you with a very similar mirth.

“Fair enough.”

Dinner was forgone that evening, although neither of you seemed to mind all that much.

When Frederick woke the next morning, he was surprised to see that it was to mid-morning light, and not the gray foggy sunshine he was accustomed to.

As he sat up in bed, he began to realize why that was. There were clothes strewn all over the floor, sheets askew and pillows from one side of the bed to the other. Needless to say, it was a proper mess.

You had treated him quite well, last night.

“Hmm…Robin?” He murmured, looking to your side of the bed and realizing you weren’t there. Looks like you woke up early, for once. He smiled softly, making his way out of bed and getting himself dressed.

After preparing himself properly for the day, he took to cleaning up the gigantic mess of a bedroom the two of you made. He couldn’t help the blush that crept up his cheeks, a bit embarrassed (if not quite proud) of the wreckage.

‘I can’t remember the last time we were that excited.’ He thought with a sheepish chuckle, moving around the room to recover dirty clothes and bedding that would be quickly washed and replaced.

When he moved to pick up your coat that had been tossed across the room, he was surprised to find a pair of knitting needles clatter from one of your inner pockets.

‘Needles?’ He bent down to pick them up, inspecting them curiously. ‘Since when did she learn how to knit?’

Curious as ever, he carefully reached into the same pocket, fingers closed around a foreign, fuzzy object. Brow furrowed, he pulled it out to reveal a very crude, bright blue scarf.

You were knitting a scarf.

“Frederick, are you awake yet? I just finished breakfast, and I know it’s your fav- Oh, Frederick, shame on you!”

He started at your chiding tone, looking up just as you strode over to him, wagging an accusing finger at him.

“You know better than to go through my coat. Don’t you remember the last time? You nearly cut your fingers off with my best knife!”

“To be fair, I was washing your coat. If you’d informed me of your haphazard weapons storage, I wouldn’t have been hurt.” He reminded you curtly, “But that’s besides the point. May I ask why you’re attempting to knit a scarf in late August?”

“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise for you, today.” You told him, much to his surprise. 

“This is for me…?”

“It is. I wanted to get you something special, but you’re not exactly the easiest man to buy a gift for. Besides, you’re not the most wanting man in the world, and you’ve never remarked about wanting something besides a new weapon or armor polish. So I thought I’d try and make you something, from the heart. I didn’t think it’d take this long, nor as many tries as it did…”

“So this is what you’ve been hiding from me the last couple weeks?” He deduced, inspecting the poor unfinished thing with much more interest.

“Y-yes, and many of which have been failures. Maribelle tried to teach me a few tricks, but I’m afraid my knitting skills are haphazard, at best. I…I hope you’re not too disappointed. I know it’s not the prettiest thing, but-”

“I love it.”

Your eyes widened at his reply, staring up at him in shock. Yet when you looked at his face, you could see the tears glistening in his eyes as he gazed at the little thing, nothing but sheer adoration in his face.

“Y-you love it? Truly?”

“It’s beautiful, Robin. I…I’ve never had anyone make me something, let alone out of…this is wonderful. Thank you, my sweet, it’s…it’s perfect.”

Frederick engulfed you in his embrace before you could even react, properly surprised by his sudden affection. You giggled shyly, slipping your arms around his neck and squeezing him tight.

“Happy birthday, my love.” You murmured, kissing him tenderly. He returned it with quite a bit of fervor, holding you as close as he could with the scarf carefully bundled in his hands.

Although he wouldn’t be able to wear it for another full month at least, it gave you both plenty of time to work out the kinks and repair the holes that were left mangled in your attempt to complete it.

It may not have been up to the Frederick Standard, but he wore it almost every day regardless. Anything you made for him, he told you between kisses, was a far superior exception.


	52. Dog Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Robin discovers Frederick cares a little more about the family dog than he lets on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double fluff post tonight! 1/2!

“Come on, Bear!! Come on, come on!!” Morgan’s high pitched, joy-filled voice bounced into your quarters as he returned from his adventures with Owain and their “majestic beast”, Bear.

Frederick was less than fond of the dog’s name, considering it was simply an Ylissean Shepherds and looked nothing like a bear. But when Frederick explained to Morgan that they were great dogs for fending off big animals, Morgan was convinced the dog had to be as strong as one.

He just had to say “Big animals, like bears”. So now, whenever you called for Freddybear, you were met with your less-than-pleased husband and a dog bounding alongside him.

“My, those two have certainly grown.” Maribelle, your visitor for afternoon tea, commented. “And...oh dear, quite dirty.”

Frederick perked up when she said this, looking over to see his precious five-year-old was indeed coated in mud, along with Bear. 

And they were about to track it onto Frederick’s lovely family heirloom.

“HEEL!” He rocketed up from his chair, pointing a finger at them both. Morgan gasped, rooted to the spot and Bear froze in an instant. “Take your shoes off, go around the carpet, and get in the bathroom.”

Frederick glared down at the six-month-old shepherd with notable distaste, before picking him up by his scruff and his tail end, and promptly following after the giggling little boy.

“Morgan, you know better than to play in the mud. We’ve gone over this a thousand times.” You chided him as you hid your smile behind the tea cup, sharing a giggle with Maribelle.

“It wasn’t my fault!” Morgan insisted, “Bear was chasin’ a duck and we ended up trippin’ and we splatted into a mud puddle!”

“Of course it was the dog.” Frederick muttered as he shot you a look, the “you encouraged this with your plot to get him a puppy” face.

“I’m more impressed that they both follow commands so well.” Maribelle mused, “I never thought I’d see the day Frederick’s boy took orders as well as, well...Bear.”

“You have no idea how hard it was to train Bear to take commands in the first place.” You said, “He’s just like Morgan- lots of energy, all over the place and just wants to play. Discipline was instilled with a lot, and I do mean a lot, of effort.”

“I believe it. Still, I can’t help but notice how gentle Frederick is with that dog.” She noted, watching Frederick cradle the muddy pup to his chest, as he whined.

“I know, I know.” Frederick sighed, “But you should’ve considered that before chasing after birds in the mud. You’re not a retriever.”

“Yeah, Bear! Not a retriever!”

“He’s an incredibly gentle person.” You said with a fondness in your voice, smiling as you watched Frederick wrangle the pair into the tub. “Ah...perhaps we should continue our tea time another afternoon. He’s going to need a bit of help.”

“By all means.” Maribelle chuckled, quite pleased to witness a regular, wild day in the house.

-

You started to notice an interesting trend as the months went on. While Bear was clearly best friends with Morgan, Frederick seemed to be his next favorite. You weren’t complaining about last place, rather you were fascinated by watching their interactions.

When Morgan was away with the nursery or went and did errands with you, Bear seemed to stick to Frederick like glue. You came home many an evening to see Bear curled up at Frederick’s feet, if not right on top of them.

He complained that his shoes would get dirty and fur would be all over his socks, but he didn’t exactly push the dog away, either.

Then you would see the dog follow Frederick around your home. When you and Morgan were off to get dressed or work on some fun little project, Bear was like a little duckling, imprinted on Frederick and practically between his legs.

Instead of a proper scolding for tripping up his master, Frederick merely sighed and pat the dog’s head.

That was when you noticed Bear getting slipped a treat here and there, between his meals and outside of his training with Morgan and Frederick.

“You’re spoiling him,” You remarked, catching your husband red-handed as he tried to discreetly pass a scrap of meat to the puppy.

He straightened some, wiping his hands on the rag as he prepared the rest of the meat for dinner.

“He was very well-behaved today, Robin. Good behavior deserves praise.” He explained simply.

“He almost peed on the carpet when you came home.” You snickered, “That doesn’t exactly sound like good behavior.”

“He was simply excited to see me. Dogs experience strong emotions. At least, that’s what Miriel told me...you never know the validity of those claims when she spouts them…”

“Even so, it’s fairly clear you’re spoiling that dog. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was your pet, not Morgan’s.” 

“Don’t be silly.” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand, “Bear is simply loyal, and I can respect that in an individual, be it human or dog. He’s protective of Morgan, and I’m sure he recognizes that trait in me, as well.”

“Freddybear and his little Bear, I see.” You grinned, and Bear yipped, barreling over to you when you said his name. “You love your Papa, don’t you, Bear? You just can’t stand being away from that big nice man who gives you extra treats.”

“Oh, don’t be so crude.” Frederick blushed as he rolled his eyes. You just laughed and came up to him, Bear happy to shove himself between the both of your legs as you wrapped your arms around Frederick’s shoulders.

“I think it’s very endearing.” You told him earnestly, pressing a kiss to his jawline. “Seeing you having such fun with the dog just goes to show how sweet of a man you are, not just with your family, but with animals, too.”

“He’s simply a four-legged child. Nothing I can’t handle.” Frederick said, though he was smiling now, too. “He’s...a good dog. With a little more discipline he’ll turn out to be a fine adult.”

“Can we start by putting an end to the leg thing?” You asked, the dog still wiggling beneath you both. Frederick chuckled, pulling away and taking Bear gently by his collar, leading him out from under you both.

“Go on, now. Your boy will be home, soon.” Frederick nudged him out of the kitchen, but not before slipping him one last piece of meat.

You laughed. He really did adore that dog; and was going to spoil him absolutely rotten.


	53. Bug Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frederick rescues you from an evil, bumbling bug or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double fluff post! 2/2!

Frederick was working calmly in his office, getting some fairly run of the mill paperwork done for the garrison and having a relaxing day.

You were out on the terrace, enjoying the sun and the peace and quiet; something soothing and highly recommended now that you were close to the end of your pregnancy. Stress was a no-no, according to Libra, and Frederick was determined to avoid it at all costs.

He thought he was doing a good job- then he heard your shriek through the doors.

His heart leapt in his throat, and he vaulted over the desk, sprinting across the castle quarters and slamming the doors open, ready to fling your attacker over the balcony, when-

“FREDERICK, KILL IT!!” 

He froze in place, seeing you visibly distressed over a massive, albeit harmless, bumble bee that flew a bit too close to your head. You tried to swat at it, but it was quick for its fatness, avoiding your hand and zipping right up to you again.

“R-Robin, what’s…?”

“It’s trying to kill me, Frederick!!” You cried, rushing up to him and ducking behind him, only for the bee to try and follow.

He intercepted the stinger-free bumble bee, catching it in his hand without a second thought. It buzzed around, considered biting him instead, but ultimately was released back out with a simple toss over the balcony.

“Oh my gods...oh my gods, that evil little thing scared the daylights out of me…!” You wheezed, clutching onto his vest. You were visibly shaken, which, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but be amused by.

“Robin, it was only a bumble bee. You know they can’t sting you, right?”

“All I knew was one second, I was reading my novel, having a nice relaxing time, and the next, some monster was buzzing around my ear and then it landed on my hand!!”

“But it can’t-”

“I didn’t know it was a bumble bee when it startled me!” You defended yourself indignantly, but buried your face in his chest, as close as you could get with a nine month baby bump between you, whining into his vest.

Frederick chuckled, half out of mirth, and half from relief in knowing it wasn’t an assailant come to kill his wife and unborn son. Even in peace times, his mind was quite skilled at making his worry explode.

“There, there. You’re safe from the evil bee, now. Perhaps we ought to continue your reading inside, away from the threat of plump insects?”

“I like that plan. I’d prefer it without the teasing, though. Some hero you are.” You grumbled at him, flicking his chest before hobbling back into the house. Frederick laughed softly, helping you inside and onto the couch.

“Forgive me. I only mean to poke a little fun. I’ll gladly rescue you from any large, ugly bug, no matter how harmless it may be.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” You beamed up at him, humming in contentment as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Sorry to take you from your work, love. Please carry on.”

“Thank you.” He kissed you once more before returning to his office, returning to the peace of the afternoon.

At least until a spider landed in your lap; a rather mean looking one, to boot. It seemed neither of you were safe from the insect onslaught, that day.


End file.
